The Switch
by Katniss1
Summary: Be careful what you wish for - as Sarah and I have learned, sometimes there can be unforseen reprecussions. OC POV, writing began before tenth book was released, but writing has continued through the newest books. Rated T for safety and some language.
1. Chapter 1: When You Wish Upon a Star

**A/N Hi there! This was my first serious fanfiction, started when I was quite a bit younger than I am now, so writing quality should go up as I get further in. I am currently working on trying to update my writing style and edit stuff in general, so any reviews you may have on the topic is greatly appreciated. I don't own Ranger's Apprentice, etc. etc. etc. Sorry about the length of this Chapter, it's more of an intro than anything else, so I hope it'll get longer as time goes on.**

**Also, I originally wrote this HTML style, so little glitchy stuff about that may occur. My appologies. **

**Also, if you are looking for plot line and would like to skip the kind of prolougish stuff, you can jump to the end of Chapter 8 and the beginning of Chapter 9 (once they're posted) because that's where the plot line starts in earnest. So, yeah. enjoy!**

'"_But you didn't, don't you see?" she said and took his hand."And I know you never will."_'  
Sarah and I both leaned back from the book we had been huddling over for the last couple of hours. We had been waiting for the ninth book of The Ranger's Apprentice series for months, and now, only hours after we had recieved it, it was finished. We looked at each other.  
"Now we have to wait another six months for the next one, don't we."Sarah said, but it was more a statement than a question.  
"Unless you want to fly over to Australia," I said, before heaving myself to my feet with a groan.  
"Uhhh!" Sarah moaned, tipping over onto the couch, " I don't wanna wait!"  
"Me neither." I replied before plopping back down beside her. Together we stared blankly ahead of us towards the mirror that hung on the otherwise blank wall.  
"I really wish we were in that world." Sarah said glumly,"Our lives here are so boring."  
"Yeah," I replied, "Me too."  
A sharp ringing noise snapped us out of our reverie. I hopped up and stumbled over to the phone. After quickly checking the caller I.D., I picked up. "Hello?"  
"Hi Kathryn, it's Sarah's mom. I was hoping you could drop Sarah back off soon."  
" Sure." I replied, reluctantly, "We'll be right over."  
"Great! See you then!" Then there was a click, and the line went dead.  
"That was my mom, wasn't it." came Sarah's voice from the living room.  
"Yup."

"Urgh!" she groaned. "But I don't wanna go home!"

"Get up you lazy bum!" I cajoled, poking her in the stomach. She swatted me away, but stood, stretching. After collecting our coats and gloves, we stepped out into the cold December air. As we walked back to her house, we talked excitedly about the book we had just read, and cheerfully predicted what would happen in the next ones. We chatted for several minutes after we actually reached her house, unwilling to finish our conversation. Finally, her mom leaned out the door and called her in, forcing us to part ways. I trudged back home, feeling worn out without Sarah there to talk to. We had been friends for so long that our names had become virtually synonomous at school, along with our friend Shayna. She too, had been waiting eagerly for the book, but had gotten it long before us on her nook, and so had not been exicted to come over and watch us read it for a couple of hours. However, I passed the time on the way home in my head by watching like a movie as adventures with Will and Halt unfolded.

I reached home just as my mother did, burdened with armfulls of groceries. I hurried to help her, but heard none of what she said to me. I was still learning skills with a bow and my knives, and moving unseen through a dense wood. I only responded when my mom gave my shoulder a little shake. "Huh?"

"Did you and Sarah have fun?"

"Oh. Yeah." I replied, rubbing my eyes.

"Good. Come on, I'm making diner, set the table."

With a sigh, I resigned myself to yet another evening of my completely and totally average life.

If only I'd known what was about to happen.

* * *

'"_Promise we'll be friends? No matter what?"_

_"Of course." said the other. "No matter what_."'

Sal and Katie leaned back from the book they had been huddled over for the last couple of hours, peering carefully around. As the first and only female Ranger Apprentices, they were supposed to be doing things exactly the way the other apprentices were, despite the gender difference - this did not include reading in their spare time. However, they couldn't help themselves - they loved reading, especially books like the ones they had just finished. It was a tale set far in the future, where technologies that would probably never exist were common place. Despite the fact that they doubted moving pictures would ever be a reality, they enjoyed reading of it none the less, and would regularly get in trouble for daydreaming about it.  
"Wouldn't that be amazing?" Sal said wistfully.  
"What?" Katie asked.  
"What do you think? Living in that world of course!"  
"I guess it would," Katie replied. Together, the stared at the window, the frosty glass reflecting them clearly. "Being able to talk to people halfway across the world, being able to get from place to place so fast - wouldn't it be neat to go there?"  
Sal simply nodded. Then, hearing footsteps outside, they leaped up and tried to look busy doing somthing. As Halt and Will walked in, Katie was determinedly examining one of her knives, and Sal was very focused on tying her shoe.  
"Wish you could go where?" Halt asked, and Katie winced at her carelessness.  
"Um, to..." Her mind came up blank, but Sal saved her.  
"To Castle Araluen." Sal interrupted,"We've never been."  
"I see," Halt replied dryly, clearly not convinced, but he let it pass.  
"Well for now, we're going up to Castle Redmont to meet with the Baron, so go make yourselves presentable," Will said, gesturing at their clothes, which were wrinkled and dirtied from a day of training.  
Grateful for any excuse to excuse to escape from their mentors, who were still clearly skeptical of their explanation, the two scampered out of the room. As they did so, Halt strode over to the chair in which the girls had been sitting, and lifted the discarded book from the seat.  
"Will, we need to get rid of these books. I know how much you like to read them too, but it's taking time away from their training." He said, holding it up for the younger ranger to examine.  
Will sighed, then said,"Alright Halt, we can move them someplace else."  
Halt nodded his approval, then placed the book back down as the girls re-entered, looking slightly more presentable than before.  
"I guess it will have to do." Halt murmured, before leading them out into the snow, where their horses waited.

* * *

Hours later, the two girls stumbled back into the cabin, not even stopping to pull off their cloaks before collapsing onto their beds. They were asleep before Will and Halt even had time to take off their knife belts.

* * *

The spirit of the mirror stirred. It looked on both of it's sides, thinking how very convenient it was that both of the pairs had asked for the same thing in reverse. Then it chuckled. It didn't matter what world they had wished for. It had access to them all. Not convenient, really, just, humorous.  
It stretched, then silently divided it's self into five pieces. After a moment, it sent two of the pieces to one side of the mirror, and two to the other. The fifth piece remained, controlling the operation.  
On one side of the mirror, the spirit pieces had to part ways, one having to go much further to find his designated sleeping girl. The other one had simply to climb a ladder into the suspended bed and lift the girl gently from the covers. Not that it mattered. The girl could not wake anyways. Nobody could, unless the spirit wanted them to. It had that effect on people.  
The other had to travel across the snow to a house multiple blocks away. There, it climbed the stairs, lifted the other girl from her covers, and brought her back to the house in which the mirror was stationed. Then, both spirit fragments waited patiently before the glinting surface of the mirror.  
On the other side, things were much more simple. Both spirits had only to move down a short corridor, and then go into opposite doors to find the two girls sleeping. Then, they carried the duo to the mirror window, and stood before it as well.  
The spirit grinned, at least as much as a spirit can grin. They were almost exactly the same. The only differences were tiny scars that one had gotten, and the other had not, and those corrections were easy to fix. The rest of them was completely identical. Good thing none of them had had an arm or a leg chopped off,' the spirit thought, 'those are always harder to do.' Then, he directed the fragments of it's self to switch the girls through the mirror's surface.  
As the two pairs of girls slid through the liquid silver surface, the mirror switched the things that were not the same about the girls. Add a scar here, erase a scar there, a blemish, and slight bend and... voila! The girls were switched. Except for one thing...  
The spirit sighed. It couldn't switch their memories, even slightly. He had tried before, with varying degrees of failure, none of them good. They would just have to figure those things out for themselves.  
Then, the spirit fragments walked back and replaced the now switched pairs back where they belonged, looking just the way they should. Then, they returned and melded back with the main section of the spirit. With a ripple, the mirror/window slowly solidified, and time once again began to tick by.

* * *

**A/N: Okay guys, seriously. I see that you're reading this chapter, but then not reading the next ones. Tell me why! ((Imagine a GIF of Loki yelling that from Thor)) I really, really do want to hear what you guys have to say. I want to know how I can improve my writing so that you would want to keep reading. So please please pretty please review or PM me or something, anonomous or not! **


	2. Chapter 2: Unwell

**A/N: Alright, so there's more actual story characters in this chapter, and there will be even more of them in coming chapters. Sorry they're so short, but when I was younger I wrote shorter snippets. So yes, things are going to get longer. Please please _please_ review to tell me what you think, even if it's constructive criticism. I always strive for improvement! And again, sorry for HTML wierdness.**

**I don't own Ranger's Apprentice, etc. **

The first thing I noticed was that the heating in my room seemed to have gone insane. Instead of cool winter air on my face, I felt hot, sweaty, summer air. As I opened my eyes, I noticed something else as well - the dark. I'm not talking kinda dark but you can still make out shapes kind of dark. I'm talking complete and total absence of light dark. This does not occur in my bedroom. I peered around, searching for the glowing clock on my iHome, but I couldn't see a thing. So the heater had gone crazy, but the power was out?  
" What the hell?" I murmured. I rolled off my back and onto my side, trying to get a better look at my room, but instead found myself crashing to the floor with a little squeak of surprise.. Rubbing my bruised ribcage, shook my head. Not only did my bed have a bar on the side to prevent that from happening, but it was a lot higher up than that. And, as I pushed myself up into a sitting position, I could feel rough wooden planks beneath my hands. My room was carpeted.  
"Gorlog's beard, what's going on in there?" It was a man's voice, with a mix of British and Irish accent to it. I felt a mix of confusion and worry as I heard footsteps approaching, as I hadn't even met anyone with that kind of accent, much less had them invited into my home.  
The door opened on the wrong side of the room. Faint light spilled inside, enough to show me the features of the room's interior. It was tiny, about 6 by 7 feet, and about a third of the space was taken up by a small bed. In the corner, a small wooden chest sat, a shirt sleeve sticking out of it. The floor was made out of the wood planks I'd felt earlier, and the walls looked like those of a log cabin. At the sight, I let out another yelp, jumping to my feet.  
"My goodness girl! You look like you've seen a ghost!" Came the voice again, from the figure who was illuminated by the light, which appeared to be coming from a candle. I felt the blood drain from my face as I realized that the figure standing before me was much to short to be my father, who was 6 foot 3.  
"Who - who are you?" I stammered, utterly confused. I tried to take a retreating step back, but found myself pressed against the back wall of the small room.  
"What are you talking about?"  
From down the hall there came a huge crash and a yelp. A call came from the opposite direction, sounding none too amused. "Halt! What are doing? Smashing rocks into the wall?"  
"Halt," I breathed, my eyes widening. I really wished I could take another step back.  
"Yes, that is my name." The man before me stated sarcastically and I sucked in a sharp breath.  
"But-but-but... that's not possible!" I managed to get out, choking over my words.  
"And why not?" He asked in a condescending way.  
"_What's happening_?!" came the cry of a familiar voice from down the hall, nearer to where the crash had originated, and my eyes somehow managed to widen further.  
"What is going_ on_ over there?!" came another call from down the hall, where the other voice was. My mind, racing to try and keep up, suddenly reached and conclusion, and I tried not to choke.  
"Is that Will?" I asked, astonished.  
"No, it's the magical elves. Of course it's Will!"  
Loud, stumbling footsteps approached down the hall, and as they neared Halt was suddenly pushed aside as another figure staggered into the room.  
"What is this place?!" It yelled, and I at once became certain - it was Sarah's voice I had heard.

"Sarah?" I asked, just to be sure.

"Kathryn?" she replied, starting towards me in the relative darkness.  
"Have you two lost your minds?" Halt steps inside, bringing the candle with him, illuminating Sarah's face, and my own.  
" Halt, what are you doi - You know what, never mind. I'm coming out to see for myself." Came Will's voice down the hallway.  
"Did he - did he say 'Halt'?" Sarah asked.  
"Yuh huh." I said articulately  
"Oh my god... this has to be a practical joke." she said.  
Though I was inclined to agree, there were certain things that made me uncertain. I have always been a very light sleeper, even if Sarah hasn't been, and someone lifting me to take me to a different room would almost certainly have woken me. And the clothes we were wearing, someone would have had to change them! We were both dressed in tight brown shirts and tight pants, but they didn't restrict movement, despite their tension. "Do you think they could have done all this?" I whispered, gesturing broadly towards the room.  
"Maybe they drugged us?" Sarah suggested, but she didn't sound convinced.  
"Are you two feeling alright?" Although I couldn't see his face, I assumed that this was Will. He was now standing beside Halt, blocking our way out.  
"And by the way, code names work best if they don't start with the same initials as your real names." Halt added snarkily. "Oh, and if _you don't know the people you're talking to_."  
"Code na.. - What?" Sarah bleated, sounding every bit as confused as I felt.  
"Katie, Sal, did you hit your heads on something?" Will inquired. "There was quite a bit of clatter from over here."  
"Katie-? I don't think..." I reply, as Sarah shakes her head, just as lost as I am.  
Halt turned to Will, "I think they've finally lost it."  
"Maybe we should take them to Malcolm; it seems like they're sick."  
"Hello! We're right here!" I said, waving my arms about to try and get their attention. It seemed clear by now that whatever was going on, these people's intentions wasn't to hurt us. But what their intentions were, I hadn't the foggiest.  
They ignored me. "Perhaps you're right." Halt replied.  
"Excuse me? Earth to Rangers?" Neither of them so much as looked my way.  
"Alright, you get the horses." Halt told Will as he turned back to us. "You two get some clothes packed."  
"From where?" Sarah asked, not wanting to disobey but not having a clue where to start.  
Halt looked at her as if she was from another planet (although in retrospect perhaps she was)."You don't even remember where your clothes are?" I thought that through the shadow the candle cast I saw one eyebrow raise.  
The sleeve I had seen earlier caught my eye, and I hesitantly moved over the the chest. I looked at Halt for confirmation, but he didn't react. Slowly, I raised the lid of it, and found several sets of clothing inside, along with a travel bag. "Probably one in your room too." I concluded, pulling out the bag and beginning to pack.  
Halt let out an enormous sigh. "If you don't even remember where your clothes are, I doubt there's anything anyone can do for you." Then he turned, placing the candle on the floor, and walked away down the hall.  
As I finish packing, I turn back to Sarah, who hasn't moved. "Insanity is the simplest option." I say, lacing up the ties on the bag.

She nods. "Yes. Or dreaming." Without warning, she lunges forwards and punches me hard on the arm.

"Ow!" I say, rubbing my arm.

"Well," she grins, "not dreaming."


	3. Chapter 3: How You Remind Me

**A/N Okay, another short chapter, I'm sorry! They do get longer later, really! Also, there's more of book characters coming up, like chapter 4 or 5. So, please bear with me, and review please please! I see that there are people reading, so please just leave me a little review. One sentence, what you liked or what I could improve. I would really appreciate it!**

I shrugged my shoulder to try to get the travel pack to rest more comfortably on my shoulder. Sarah also had her pack, and together we were following Halt out the door into what was definitely a summer evening. I could hear the sounds of a multitude of night animals moving about in the forest, which completely encircled the clearing that the cabin was placed in. In the middle of that clearing were four gorgeous horses, standing proudly beside Will. Two of them were recognisable from their descriptions in the books, but there were two others, one jet black, the other one chestnut-brown. Halt went over to claim his, and both he and Will mounted. However, that still left us with a fifty percent chance of choosing incorrectly.

Halt turned back to us. "Well? What are you waiting for? Don't tell me you've forgotten how to ride a horse!"  
I glanced over at Sarah, smiling nervously as she met my gaze. Though we had both been to a summer horse camp for several years, and were fairly good at riding, we weren't sure just how good we were 'supposed' to be. And of course, there was the whole whose-horse-is-who's issue.  
"Um, Halt, which..." I began, but trailed off as his eyes burned into my head. I could do without being told once again that I was crazy, and so I decided to take that fifty percent chance. Not bothering to tie the pack on, mostly because I wasn't quite sure how, I swung up into the saddle of the brown horse, and in settling myself, accidentally gave the horse's sides a gentle nudge. Sarah did the same, her bag smacking against the horse's side.  
"Wait-!" Will started, but he didn't get to finish. Each respective horse leaped straight up into the air, twisting their front one direction, and their hind quarters another, shifting the saddle enough to send us toppling off in a heap. The horse came back to the exact same position as before, twisting it's neck around to take a good look at me. I swear, it was laughing at me. And I think Halt might have been doing so as well, at least on the inside, as he swung back out of the saddle to come over to me.  
"Will, they don't even remember which horse is which. Yes, we do have problems."  
I sat up and look over at Sarah, whom Will was kneeling over. She sat up as well, and looked at me. Then, as one, we burst out laughing. We didn't try to say anything to each other, or try to explain what was so funny, but it was, undeniably, funny. At least, it was since neither of us had been hurt. Halt and Will looked at each other, a mixture of concern and mild fright pasted across their features. This only made us laugh harder.  
When we finally managed to regain our composure, we shakily gained our feet. I looked over at the Rangers and gave them a sheepish grin. "Hehe, wrong one." Sarah and I hastened to move over to the correct horse, and swung up into our proper saddles. Halt and Will did the same, and when all were ready, Sarah and I confidently gave our horse's sides a good squeeze.  
To our surprise, the horses once again twisted and bucked, this time bucking me backwards while Sarah shot forwards. We were both severely winded, except this time, it was a heck of a lot less funny.  
Halt once again came over and knelt beside me, but this time there was a mixture of concern and confusion on his face. "You know, I think the horses know that you're crazy. They _really_ don't want you riding them." He offered me a hand as he stood. I took it, and he heaved me to my feet.  
"So what's up with them?" I asked, and Halt gave me a look. I realized with a pang of sorrow that slang hadn't been invented yet. "Why are they acting that way?"  
Halt continued to look at me quizzically for a moment, before saying, "I honestly don't know. They seem to think you're someone other than who you are. I guess you'll have to ask their permission again."  
_These horses are good! _I think. _If a full-fledged ranger can't tell the difference between me and his apprentice, what does it say about the horse that can?_ I walked to the black horse again and gently stroked the mane, wary. It gave me a baleful look, as if asking me why on earth I would do that?  
"So, um, what's the password?" I asked.  
Halt walked over, before leaning in slightly and saying soft enough that no one else would hear, "Puedo montar?."  
_ Can I ride_ in Spanish? Seriously? I attempted to raise one eyebrow, even though I was perfectly aware that I was not capable of it. Halt raised one of his.  
"You didn't do it right before and you still can't do it now. Now get on with it."  
I murmured the password to my horse and swung up into the saddle, more cautiously this time, ready to bail at a moments notice. I saw out of the corner of my eye that Sarah was doing the same, her short brown hair gleaming in the moon light. The ADHD part of my brain wondered if my light caramel hair was doing the same. Then, I was jerked back to the present as the two rangers swung up into their own saddles.  
"Now if all that foolishness is done, why don't we be on our way." Halt said, before gently nudging Abelard's sides and moving him into a slow cantering lope. Will followed afterwards, and then, a little more reluctantly, Sarah and I did the same.  
Now here's a little shocker. Being in England we rode... English saddle! And guess what? I'd never ridden English saddle! Oh goody! As I followed up behind Halt and Will, with Sarah coming up beside me, and we came to the first bend in the road, I tried to neck rein him to the left, to follow Halt and Will. But, never having learned neck reigning, he kept on going straight, into the forest. Confused, I pulled him to a stop, pleased that at least I didn't have to yank on his reigns to stop him. I twist around, and see, much to my annoyance, that Sarah managed the turn with no issue. "Sarah!" I call, annoyed.

"English reign, genius!" She yells to me, making me scowl, partially at her, and partially at my own stupidity. Taking a reign in each of my hands, and shortening it up, I lean forward and give his sides a nudge, also clicking with my tongue. Apparently, all those signals combined, along with the negative vibes radiating off me at the moment get across to the horse that I want to go fast. He executes the turn I request with expert precision, and then races through the trees at a full gallop, which I had never even used in western saddle, untill we reach the others. Then, without me even having to ask, he slows to the same cantering pace as the others. Never having galloped before, during the actual event I was a bit scared, but when we had slowed back to a comfortable canter, my annoyed or angry vibes had evaporated into a poorly concealed giddy smile.

"Dream or insanity, I think I'm starting to like it here." I say softly to Sarah, who looks over at me with one eyebrow raised. I roll my eyes. "Am I the only person who can't do that?!"


	4. Chapter 4: Somewhere Over the Rainbow

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this! I see there's lots of you who at least read a couple of chapters, and it means a lot, so thank you. Special thanks to my first and only commenter so far, FarmersDaughter, for your kind words! I was considering taking this story back down, but your words kept me from doing it. I would have PM ed you, but I, erm, couldn't figure out how, so...yeah. Thank you, everyone, and I hope you continue to read! **

We rode for hours, through the rising and setting of the moon. At my summer camp, I had thought that I could ride for hours at a time; I found out that I was very, very, wrong. As we finally stopped for the night at Halt's command, I was nearly sleeping in the saddle, and as we dismounted, I felt my knees start to buckle before I managed to catch myself. However, to my astonishment, Halt and Will look at alert and awake as ever.  
"Well, go put up your tent." Halt said, gesturing at us while he turned back to Abelard to untie his own tent. I look at my horse, but seeing nothing, I look over at Sarah, silently asking her a question. She glances at her own horse, then looks back to me and shrugs. Sighing quietly, I turn to ask the others where our tent is, bracing myself for the inevitable sarcastic response, when I see Will heft something from Tug's back and start towards us, looking annoyed.  
"Are you gonna take this tent from me, or are you going to sleep outside?" He asked, clearly not amused with having to wait. Taking the bundle from his arms, I vaguely wondered why Will had my ... no, our ... tent on his horse, but I was tired enough to not feel like asking. I looked over at Sarah.  
"How about over there?" She gestured with her hand to an area with less debris scattered over it. I nodded agreement wearily, and we shuffled over to begin the assembly.  
Turns out that the didn't have the same kinds of tents back then as we do now. Instead of those nice fit-together-able poles pieces on bungee cord, and pretty pre-shaped nylon of modern day tents, this tent had a couple of foot long pieces of wood that fit together like linkin logs except end on end, a couple big sheets of fabric, and a bit of rope. By the time we figured out how to put it all together, Halt and Will's tents had been assembled and both men were fast asleep inside. Wondering vaugely why there was no guard, but too tired to be overly concerned, Sarah and I grabbed our blankets from our horse's saddles, loosened their girths to let them be comfortable, and then staggered into our tent.  
As I laid in the darkness beside Sarah, listening to the chorus of crickets in the forest beyond, I realized just how amazing this world we were residing in was, and with a growing sense of fear and horror wondered if, when we fell asleep again, we would return to the boring, if slightly more logical, world from whence we'd come. For a moment, I fought sleep, clawing my way out of it's grip, before realizing that I would have to sleep eventually, and relaxing again. There was nothing for it - I would just have to take the risk, and hope that when I awoke, I would still be in this crazy, confusing, amazing world.

* * *

Light streamed into my eyes through my eyelids, waking me from my slumber. It was a strange, distorted light, though, and in confusion, I rubbed my eyes and opened them, finding myself staring up at what appeared to be an illuminated cloth. It took me a moment to remember everything, but when I did, I jerked into a sitting position, looking wildly around. I quickly examined everything; our clothes, the tent, the blankets. To my relief and dismay, they were the same as before. Relief, because we were still here; dismay for the same reason. Last night the whole world had turned upside down and sent me crashing onto the ceiling. Even though I hadn't broken anything in the fall, and was in wonder at the sudden switch in gravity, I had a feeling that there were going to be a few good bruises that were going to come back to bite me.  
Twisting around to find Sarah still determinedly curled in her blankets, I gave her a shake. "Sarah. Sarah, wake up. I need you to tell me that I'm still where I think I am."  
Sarah groaned, rolled onto her other side, and covered her head with the blankeet. I brushed my blankets away and shifted from sitting to kneeling, not wanting to go outside by myself, whether it be to a bunch of laughing pranksters or to two people who shouldn't exist. I expected to wait for at least half an hour for her to deign the world with anything past moans, as I usually had to when waiting for her to rise when we'd spend the night at each other's houses. Instead, it was only a couple a moments before, with the same panicked frenzy I'd felt when I'd first woken, she threw her blankets away and jerked up into a position halfway to standing, rumpled hair emulating the semi-crazed look in her eyes. "Are we still here?" she squeaks "Was it all just a dream?" Then, she looks down at me, at her clothes, and at the tent.  
"Ready to go outside?" I asked, deciding that her question didn't need answering; she could make that deduction on her own. In answer, she gained her feet, offering her hand to pull me up. I accept it, wincing slightly at the soreness I can feel in every muscle of my body. I had never been this sore before, certaintly not after riding horses. Then again, we had tripled if not quadrupled the straight time I'd ever ridden a horse for.  
The clearing was beautiful in the sunlight. Though, back home, it had been the dead of winter, in the morning sulight there was no mistaking the fact that it was very much summer. The trees filtered the light in a dappled shadow pattern and it lit the leaves from behind, making them seem to glow. The grass that grew where the trees did not was longer than in front of an average house, but no longer than a handspan. It was covered in dew, and as I took a few steps, the outside of my boots were instantly soaked (luckily they were water proof.) Bird song filled the air and created a morning prelude that would lift anyone's spirit, perhaps even Halt's. As I looked around, I saw both he and Will sitting by a small fire, eating something. As Sarah climbed out behind me, I started over towards them.  
" I see we forgot to set a watch." Halt said, not looking up.  
"A watch...?" Sarah and I said together. We do that sometimes.  
"Yes, a watch. Don't just repeat my words back to me."  
Sarah and I look at each other. "I didn't know we were supposed to set a watch." Sarah said, "Are we in danger?"  
"Not presently." Halt growled, "But in case you hadn't noticed, we happen to be in the middle of a forest, and there are, on occasion, robbers in forests. Or rouges. Or other criminals."  
Not sure what to say, we just sat down beside them at the fire. Will handed us two bowls, with some sort of or oatmeal in them. He had a big grin on his face and was shaking his head slightly, and I guessed he was probably remembering being Halt's apprentice himself.  
Will looks slightly different then I thought he would. For one thing, he's taller than I expected. The way they describe him in the books, he's supposed to be about the same height as me; five six or thereabouts. But, instead, he's more like five eight or nine. I can only imagine how tall Gillan really is. Also, his hair is much darker; darker than tree bark, whereas I had imagined it a light brown. Halt looks more or less the same; though compared to Will he seems even shorter. He's still taller than me though, as well as Sarah, and Sarah is taller than I am.  
Silently, Sarah and I examine our breakfast suspiciously. It has many odd looking chunks in it, that I can't identify even after tasting it, and there isn't any flavor to speak of. It's texture is about as pleasant as its visual appeal, and it's honestly very, _very_, gross. Wisely, however, we say nothing.

* * *

After breakfast, we mounted our horses and continued to ride, and though this made my sore muscles groan in protest at first, they soon loosened up and allowed me to ride more fluidly and comfortably. The ride was not very adventurous, with most of the time spent in silence. That is, of course, until after darkness had fallen, and we came to a portion of the road where a river seemed to just run right across it.

"Um, is this supposed to be like this?" I ask, watching as Halt and Will begin to fiddle with their saddles.

"Yes." Halt replies casually, look back at us. "We have to wade through it. Don't worry, it's not too deep."

"Oh, seriously?" I muttered. "It is ten at night, and now we have to_ wade a river_?!"  
"Don't be such a baby." Halt said, pulling up the things the things that hung from his saddle so that they were flipped over Abelard's back, and wouldn't trail in the water.  
"But the water's cold!" Sarah moaned, but none the less we both began the process of copying what Halt and Will were doing.  
"We'll make camp when we get the the other side." Halt informed us, making our spirits rise just a little.  
We all waded across one by one, the water coming high on the horses' flanks. When we did make it across, my pant legs were soaked, my boots were flooded, and as Sarah said, the water was indeed cold. As we put together our tents (Sarah and I doing much better this time), we were all shivering. Or at least Sarah and I were, I don't really know about Halt and Will. As we crawled into covers, sore, wet, and cold, I wondered how on earth we expected to survive in this world for a week.

**A/N: Okay, so not as much Halt and Will as expected. Definitely more of them as soon as our training begins, and way WAY more of them as the actually plot starts... mwa ha ha. So please stick with me, and review to help me make it better. I love you all, thanks for reading :) Have a nice day, or night as it may be. **


	5. Chapter 5: A Perfect Day to Travel

**A/N: Hi guys! Just to let you know, the whole 'multiple updates on weekends but none during weekdays' will probably be common, if anyone's interested. To FarmersDaughter again, thank you so much! Really, your reviews make me smile. Virtual cupcakes for you! In response to your suggestion, I originally did do part of my chapters with Katie and Sal in them, but honestly, in comparison, it was so bland, even I wanted to stop reading it when I'd edit. So, I might do a few little cuts to them (in fact I think I'll add one to the next chapter) but there won't be a plot really around them, because anything that they can do in our world is so very mundane compared to this one. Just trust me on this one :). **

**Alright, enough about me and my reviewer. On to the story!**

"How much farther can Malcolm _be_?" I moaned, leaning forward so I was partially draped over my walking horse's neck.  
"We've got a few days to go yet." Halt said mildly,"We're about a day out from Castle Araluen right now."  
Groaning on the inside, I drooped even further, so that I could feel the strong muscles of the animal rippling beneath my chest. Then, abruptly, I perked up, hearing something. "There's a horse coming." I said, sitting up and looking over at Sarah.  
"That tends to happen on roads." he reminded me. I scowled, but said nothing. We hadn't met a single other person on horseback yet: only people on foot or in large caravans, with carts and wagons in which they were riding.  
Expectantly, Sarah and I tried to peer around the corner we were coming to, and see the approaching riders. Finally, they came into view - two large and very showy horses, one black and one white. On their backs were two figures, and as we neared them, I could make them out. I didn't need to be introduced to recognise the one.  
"Horace?" I asked no one in particular, and as Sarah nodded her agreement I felt two very confused/concerned/annoyed gazes fix briefly upon me before moving on.

"Hi Horace!" Will called, grinning broadly. Halt, though he said nothing, also had a small smile on his face.  
"Ah ah!" Horace called back. "You've forgotten someone!"  
"Evanlyn!" Will exclaimed, sounding almost surprised. "How good to see you again!"  
"I believe that's 'your highness-es',to you." Evanlyn replied jokingly.  
"What are you two doing out here?" Halt asked as they came to a stop before us.  
"King Duncan got a bit tied up in all this Scotti business, but still wanted to check up on Nihon-Ja like scheduled, so he sent me and Evanlyn instead. And in any event," Horace said, looking happily at Evanlyn, "we never had our honeymoon." I blinked at this, because even though it had been pretty obvious that it was going to happen at some point, Horace and Cassandra weren't actually married in the books. Also, Nihon-Ja?  
"What Scotti business?" Sarah asked, voicing another question of mine, and, as it turns out, the most important.  
Horace looked at us quizzically. "Haven't Halt and Will told-"  
"They've lost their minds, Horace," Halt said bluntly. "Don't even try."  
"I have not lost my mind!" I said indignantly. "I've lost my memory! And not all of it either."  
Horace shook his head with a smile. "I don't know what you're talking about Halt, but she certainly has the same vein of stubbornness in her." I gaped - never in my life had I been described as stubborn. Shy? Quiet? Nerdy? Definitely. But not _stubborn._ Horace glanced at the sky, where the sun was about to drop to sit atop the trees. "Well, if your business isn't too pressing, we could all make camp here - you know, spend a little time before we're off to Nihon-Ja for a couple of months. And you're off to... wherever it is that you're going."  
Will and Halt looked at each other, then nodded agreement on something. "I don't see why not." Halt said. I had to bite my cheek to keep from cheering - anything to make this horrid monotony of riding down the road in silence cease.

* * *

"So, Katie and Sal have 'lost their minds' you say?" Horace begins, merrily gulping down a rabbit stew Will had cooked up with spices and foods provided by both parties.

"Oh, they don't call themselves Katie and Sal anymore. They call themselves Sarah and Kathryn now." Halt says, giving Sarah and I a look.  
Sarah and I, unsure how or if to reply, glanced at each other for a moment, before she said slowly, "Well... I guess we just don't remember anything before a couple of days ago. Well, not nothing per-say, but... not much."  
"You remembered who I was." Horace pointed out, and I nodded.  
"Yeah. We remember things like that, sometimes. But other things... not really." I shrugged. "It's kind of luck of the draw what we remember and what we don't." This is an outright lie. Not luck of the draw, but instead luck of what John Flanaggan decided to write. But if we were in that world, then how did he write everything exactly out, or is it not like that at all-  
"That must be hard." Evanlyn sympathized, her words dragging me back into the real world. Now that she was off her horse I could see just the beginnings of signs of what Horace told us was three months of pregnancy. "Does this mean you have to re-do your training, or do you remember that?"  
Halt answered before we could. "Well, seeing they remember the wrong names and got on the wrong horses when we started off, I'm going to assume that they don't remember much else either."  
Horace frowned. "But doesn't that mean that they would have been-"  
"Yes." Sarah and I chorused ruefully. I rubbed my lower back, which was still sore. Evanlyn made a small noise and I realized it was a concealed giggle. I gave her a look. "It's not funny." At that she burst out in full out laughter.  
"You may have lost your memory, but you haven't lost your spunk." She chortled, before struggling to compose herself. Again, that word. _Spunk. _Yeah, definitely not.  
"You know I'm never going to remember these new names. Like you with Cassandra, Will." Horace said.

"Yes, it's taking us long enough." Will agrees, smiling at us. "I don't know what brought it on, but they're really quite adamant about it."

"Maybe it was the fall when they got on the wrong horse." Casandra says, and the other three laugh. The conversation continues, with Sarah and I trying to stay out of it as much as possible. It seems that silence is the best policy when it comes to us - all we get for our pains is sarcastic and snarky comments.  
"Don't mind me." Evanlyn said to us softly after a while, noting our slightly confused and bewildered looks. "Really I'm just jealous."  
"Jealous?" Sarah asked, surprised. "Of who? Us?"  
"Yes. You two." She leaned towards us. "Look, ever since I found out who the ranger corps. were, I've wanted to join - the adventure is right up my alley, if you get my meaning. But, alas, I'm cooped up in a castle all day."  
"All day." Horace added with a hint of sarcasm, overhearing our conversation. "Except for those times when you're, you know, saving the nation of Nihon-Ja and stuff." Evanlyn shoved him playfully, and he laughed. I decided I liked these two.  
"Speaking of saving Nihon-Ja, how are you two?" Horace asked Will and Halt, who I realized had been mostly left out of the conversation.  
Will shrugged. "Same old same old, I guess."  
"There is no 'same old same old' when it comes to a ranger." Evanlyn told him, leaning forward expectantly. "Come on, I'm sure you've had some great adventures."  
Will shrugged. "Well, a couple of weeks ago, there was a report of some sort of kerfuffle in the woods by the castle, and it turned out to be a raiding party from Scotti, about to try and burn the place down. It probably would have worked too, if we hadn't stopped them."  
Horace scowled. "How'd the Scotti get so far into the kingdom without being reported?"  
"We aren't sure - they were a bit too out of breath to tell us." Halt's grim joke earned a soft chuckled from Will, Sarah, and I, but Horace and Evanlyn remained grave.  
"It's no laughing matter, Halt - the Scotti raids have been getting worse; a lot worse. It's like they're planning something, but we're not sure what it is. I'm a little reluctant to leave right now, but Nihon-Ja needs checking up on too, so... I'm sure Duncan will keep things in line." Horace said, voice soft with the weight of the words. He doesn't sound completely sure about leaving, either.  
"He's fought bigger wars than these, Horace." Halt reassured him. "He can handle it. Believe it or not, he actually ran this kingdom before you came along and married his daughter." These last words were a gentle prod, trying to raise Horace's spirits, which had almost visibly fallen. Though he didn't respond, Horace did seem a little less worried, and was able to laugh and joke with us for a little while longer, before we all bid adieu and went to bed, slipping into our tents.

* * *

**Oh, and remember during this chapter that I'm writing this from the perspective of the ninth book, but with knowledge from the other two, so the two OC characters don't know any info from books 10 and 11. **

**Really, really, the chapters are going to get longer soon. Actually, for reals. Maybe not really soon, but I know that my latests chapters (where I was originally writing this) are really long in comparison, so... yeah. Stick with me please!**

**Reviews make me happy. Even constructive criticism. Even anonomous. Even if they're one sentence. Even if they're one word. Thanks for reading, see you (figuratively) soon!**


	6. Chapter 6: Fix You

**A/N: Okay, so there is a plot line coming, really. I believe the actual plot line begins in the chapter after this one. So... yeah. If you don't like what you're reading yet, wait until I get to the actual plot (that's also when my chapters get longer, and my writing style should become even better, because I'll be updating from more recent writing).**

**FarmersDaughter: yes, I believe you are correct with all the things you listed. **

**K, I'm done.**

* * *

"Well, they look like a pair of perfectly healthy sixteen year olds, though they do appear to have had a drastic loss of muscle mass." Malcolm said, lowering the glass piece that he had been using to refract a candle's light into my eyes. I blinked to try and rid myself of the spots that floated on my vision, and shook my head. Sixteen? Since when? I gazed at the small window that looked out into Malcolm's yard, but focused not on the outside, but on the reflection formed by the glass. I managed to focus my eyes properly, and narrowed my eyes. I guess I did look a little different. I was taller, if only slightly, and my hair was much deeper brown than it had been before - it was more like chocolate-brown than caramel. My face was less round, more angular. I was differently proportioned, my somewhat childish build having transformed into something more... grown up looking. In the tight shirt and pants that Malcolm was having us wear for this checkup of sorts, this particular trait was very clear, and I felt my face grow hot, though I'm not sure what was embarrassing me. I looked over at Sarah, and found her also looking at me. She hadn't changed as much as I had, which may be why I didn't notice until it was pointed out to me. It was only fair, though, as she has been mistaken as her older sister's twin. It made sense that she had grown into her sixteen year old shape already, and so didn't have very far to change. Her hair is a darker shade than I recall, and her height has increased slightly as well.  
"So, what do you think is wrong with them?" Halt asked.  
"Well... they've lost their memory..." Malcolm said slowly. "But there doesn't seem to be much of a cause for it. There haven't been any traumatic events, no sicknesses, nothing out of the ordinary, so I can't really tell you what happened. It's not easy to treat a disease that you can't identify, so really all I can do is give them some of this," he held up a small pouch, "and hope for the best." He dumped a generous helping of what appeared to be a green powder into two cups of water, and handed them to us. "Drink up."  
We both examined the greenish liquid with suspicion. "Um... what is this exactly?" Sarah asked, doubt in her voice. I glanced towards the adults with uncertainty, wondering if medical marijuana had been invented already here, and if I was willing to take it to avoid suspicion.  
"Ginko Gilaba, a memory herb." Malcolm replied mildly, but I didn't feel quite convinced. He turned around and started moving about, replacing the objects he'd been using during the checkup.  
"It occurs to me that it might be something ... other, than memory loss." Halt said none to subtlety.  
Malcolm turned around halfway and nodded, acknowledging that he had heard. "You think they're mad? They don't seem mad. But, there are ways to check." He turned back to us. "Where are you?"

"In a house?" Sarah says, and I add, "Your house?"

Malcolm shakes his head. "What country?"

"Araluen." We say together.

"And who is king?"

"Duncan?" I say uncertainly. However, Malcom nods, a slight smile coming to his face. Then, he turns back to Halt and gives him a slight shrug.  
"Fine." Halt said, sounding almost disappointed by the fact.  
"Well, drink up." Malcolm says, gesturing towards our still full glasses. We eyed them again, and I felt my stomach turn at the thought of ingesting the substance. However, it was clear we wouldn't be leaving until we drank, and so, bracing myself, I raised the cup to my lips and plugged my nose with my fingers, taking the entire draft in one go, to get it over with. As I swallowed the last of it, I unplugged my nose and wiped my lips. My face wrinkled with distaste as I got a lingering taste of the drink, a bitter and sour flavor. When Sarah finished her own drink, I looked over at Malcolm, and said, "Can we leave now please?"  
Malcolm made a shooing motion towards the door, Sarah and I hurried to exit. When we reached the rooms that Malcolm was loaning us, we quickly changed into our other clothes. I had at first suspected that the long sleeves and pant legs of the ranger apparel would be horribly hot in the summer, but as it turned out, the cloth was extremely breathable, and was easy to roll up if all else failed. When we were finished, we headed outside into the bright summer sunshine.  
"We're going to see Ebony, would you like to come?" Malcolm asked. "She's feeling a lot better now."  
"Ebony..." I said slowly, trying to place the name.  
Malcolm studied me closely. "You know, perhaps they are a little crazy." Malcolm commented to Halt. "Yes, Ebony. The dog..."  
"Oh, that's right!" I said. They had mentioned the animal only briefly during the books, and so I hadn't been able to recognize the name right away. "How did she get hurt?"  
Malcolm bit his lip, examining us critically. "Perhaps it is just memory loss." he muttered, seemingly to himself, before speaking to us. "She was kicked by a horse on the road one day, and it broke her back. But, I've got her all fixed up now, and I thought that you might want her back seeing you're here anyway."  
Will cleared his throat, looking worried, and Malcolm turned. "You've survived for six months without her, and now you can't wait five minutes?" He joked, before leading us around to the far side of the clearing about his house, and positioning himself by a gap in the undergrowth. "Ebony!" Malcolm called. For a moment nothing much happened, but then there was a rustle in the bushes, and a black and white blur leaped out of the underbrush. It rushed towards us, leaping up onto Will, before quickly moving on, having to greet everyone in the party. It appeared to be a border collie, as it had the typical black and white coloring and feathery coat.  
I knelt, running my hands along her back. She circled around, leaping up to lick my face, before I pushed her away. Sarah knelt down as well, ruffling her ears. For a while the dog put up with it, but after a few moments she squirmed away from us and ran to Will, planting her paws as high up as they would go, which was about mid thigh on him. He laughed, clearly very happy to see his dog safe and sound again. He bent at the waist, so as not to disrupt her, and patted her on her back. "How are you doing, girl?" He asked, as she let out a little yip in response.

"She reminds me of Olivia." Sarah told me, referring to the little mutt that she had adopted from the Humane Society a couple years ago. I nodded, smiling.  
We all looked up as a huge figure entered the clearing from around the same area as Ebony had. At first, I instinctively shied away from this towering figure, who must have been seven feet tall or more. But, after a moment, I realized that this must be the gentle giant Trobar, who had adopted Will's last dog, Shadow. It figured that he would be the one taking care of Ebony during her recovery. Another border collie, looking slightly older than Ebony, judging by the slight graying of her muzzle, followed the great man, a pace or two behind. Shadow, I decided. The pair both looked happy to see the group.  
"Wi' Te'ty" Trobar said in his somewhat garbled speech, "Ha't, Ka'ie, Sal, i's g'eat t' see 'ou!"  
"It's good to see you too, Trobar." Will replied with a smile.

"Is so'one hu't?" he asked, a look of concern flashing across his slightly misshapen face. The expression made his defects seem somehow endearing, and I realized that really, he wasn't very frightening at all.

"No, no one's hurt." Will replied, gesturing to us. "They just aren't feeling very well. They don't remember very much of... anything."  
Trobar frowned. "Tha' not goo' " he said. He bent over slightly, to make himself more or less the same height as us. "Do 'ou 'member me?" he asked.  
"Yes, I think so." Sarah replied, and she looked at me for confirmation. I nodded.  
"'ood." Trobar said with a smile, standing all the way up again. "'ow lon' a' you s'ayin?" He asked.  
"Not very long I'm afraid." Halt told him. "We have to get back so we can try to re-teach almost a year of training."  
"Oh." Trobar looked crestfallen, but he quickly recovered. "Ha'e a 'afe t'ip back'"  
We all looked a little consternated for a moment, trying to work out his words through all the missing sounds. Finally, Will got it. "Have a safe trip back?" Trobar nodded vigorously. "We'll try." Will said.

"In fact, we'd better get going right away." Halt said, making a point to look at each of us. I nodded obediently, though inside I was dreading another couple of days riding back home.  
After we had grabbed our things, and strapped them onto our saddles, we said goodbye to Malcolm and Trobar. "Make sure you bring Ebony with you if you pass back this way." Malcolm said, "I'll make sure she's doing all right."  
"I will, though I'm sure there's no need." Will replied, smiling. As we rode off, I could see Trobar cradling Shadow in his arms, as one might with a small child waving goodbye to a relative.

* * *

Katie and Sal were in separate rooms, but both of their 'parents' were together, being talked to by the same doctor.

"We think they have some form of schizotypal personality disorder, but it's like nothing I've ever seen before." He gives them an apologetic look. "They are borderline crazy. We'll keep them for observation, and do everything we can, but I can't guarantee that they'll get better." Both sets of parents nod, faces looking uniformly crestfallen. They hadn't known what was happening as their children had leapt from their beds, and begun to crash about, yelling out names that they didn't recognise, and becoming spooked by things like digital clocks and lightbulbs. And so, both families had rushed their children to the emergency room, not knowing what else to do. And now, they had nothing to do but go home and wait.

* * *

The mirror grinned (or did the spirit equivalent of grinning), watching the two different medical scenes with amusement. The change in the one set's muscle mass would be a puzzler for all but the girls and the mirror himself, he thought gleefully. And the other two - what a show they had put on! He contained his mirth with an effort as the one set began riding once more, and the other two were left in rooms all alone to deal with the lightbulbs, and turned his attention to elsewhere._ I wonder how that boy in Tolkien's Middle earth is doing, _he thought, and peering through the dimensions, began to watch his little show.

* * *

**I really like reviews! 3 Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7: The Dark Side of the Moon

**A/N: Sorry for any long delays coming up, I have big projects + traveling of various types now, so yeah. I'll try to do better when my workload has decreased. But, in my defence, this is a LOT longer than the last ones, so... yeah.**

**This would have taken a lot less time, had this actually saved when I hit save. Sorry.**

"The first thing you always have to remember about shooting a bow is that you have to keep your arm steady if you intend to hit your target." Halt told us. We waited a couple of moments, but it was clear that Halt wasn't intending to say anything more until we had tried to shoot something, so we hefted our bows. They were a light beech re-curves, with a string made out of something that looked like catgut (the stuff they used to put together old string instruments). I reached awkwardly over my shoulder, fingers searching for an arrow. They were also made of a light wood, and was a perfect cylinder, looking almost like it had been made by a machine. It had a practice tip of course, but still. Even the fetching appeared to be exactly spaced, made of feathers so perfect they looked artificial. I nocked it on the string, just as I'd been taught at girl scout camp back home a couple years ago. Then as I placed the edge of the arrow against the wood of the bow, I frowned. "Where's the bridge?" I asked, confused. On every bow I'd ever used, there had been a small device upon which to rest the shaft of the arrow, so you'd know that it would stay in place while you shot it, and shoot in the right direction.  
Will returned my frown, also looking confused. " Bridge?" he asked.  
"Yeah, you know, the thing you rest the arrow on to make sure it shoots straight?"  
"So ... your hand?" Halt replied, raising one eyebrow. God I wished I could do that.  
"Oh, right." I said, pretending not to be phased. Sure, use your hand, why didn't _I _think of that? Eying the bow and my badly drooping arrow, i wrapped my hand around the bow and slid it up to the spot I though the bridge might normally be on a bow. Almost instantly, Halt reached out and pushed my hand down about an inch and a half, silently pointing out a small notch in the bow that showed where my hand was meant to go. Though I didn't look back at him, I could tell he had that annoying condescending look on his face. Sighing, I straightened my arm and pulled the bowstring back.  
Wait, let me revise that. I _tried_ to pull the bowstring back.  
Unlike the re-curve bows from home, made of lightweight easy to bend plastics and woods, this was made of real, solid wood. I got it about halfway back, when my arm said "_He-llo this is heavy_!" and gave out, sending the arrow in a pathetic little arc to land a few feet in front of me. The effort require to pull back the string even that far must have been somewhere between fifty and seventy pounds; I could do push-ups well enough, so I could push a hundred something pounds down, but when it came to anything else related to arm strength I was a bit... weak. I could lift with my legs, I had pretty strong legs - I'd dragged four people pushing backwards behind me before - but the pulling part of my arms were pretty wimpy. Pull-ups: not a chance. I'm a writer, a pianist, a school-work-doer, not an athlete. So using those same muscles to hold a bowstring back long enough to aim; Uh uh, not gonna happen.  
"Not quite what I had in mind." Halt said acerbically. He came closer, and stood behind me. "Ready your bow again." I did as I was told, nocking the arrow, then raising the bow. He rested his hands on my arms, one on my left arm at the forearm, one on the left upper arm. If he hadn't been like forty years older than me, it most certainly would have been awkward. "Now draw back..." I did as I was told, pulling with all the strength in the little muscle that I had. The string shot back the first couple inches, then became slower and slower as the resistance grew. I made it almost to the tip of my nose, before my arm collapsed again and my arrow when splat. Halt stepped back, looking at me critically. "I think I see what the problem is..."  
I looked past him as I heard an "Ugh!" of frustration from Sarah. Two of her arrows lay on the ground as well, hers just a little further then mine were. Both of ours were meters from where the targets sat. Will was looking at the arrows, studying them critically. "Um, Halt?"  
"Malcolm said they had lost muscle mass... He just didn't tell us they had lost _this much_ muscle mass. I think that some strength training will be necessary before we can do anything." Halt wrapped his hand around my upper arm again, this time all the way around instead of just resting on top, and tightened his grip to the point where it came close to being painful, and would definitely bruise. "Get out" he commanded. I attempted to do as he said, straining against his hand, tensing the muscles in my arm to try and get away, and when this didn't work I started twisting my arm to get out, but this didn't work either. When I stopped trying, knowing I had been beaten, he released me. As I rubbed my upper arm, he said, "Yes, somehow their muscles just disappeared."  
"So, we have to do what exactly?" Will asked  
Halt smiled grimly. "Train them."

* * *

"You want me to do _what_?" I said incredulously, staring at Halt. "I don't think so."  
"Why not?" He said casually.  
"Because I'm gonna kill myself?" I suggested, backing away slightly.  
"No you won't. Just try it."  
"_Just try it,"_ I parroted with a scoff. "Tell me Halt, who's gonna save me if I break my neck?"  
Halt looked thoughtful. "Don't break your neck." he said finally.  
"Reassuring." I reply sarcastically, shuffling over to the edge of the cliff that we were standing beside. Who knew that Redmont had cliffs? Peering over the edge, I caught sight of glittering deep blue water that was a sickening distance down. Don't get me wrong - I'm not afraid of heights. I am afraid of falling from heights and dying. And so, it was not until I felt my feet lift the ground and then get tossed high up and out over the water that I started to freak out.  
Apparently, Halt has some practice tossing people off of cliffs into lakes, because I was almost straight up and down, with my feet leading my way into the water. Through my haze of terror, I knew that this was a good thing. I also knew that having your arms pin wheeling when you hit the water was a horrible idea, because your arms would get torn from their sockets. It took all my will and brain power, but I managed to control myself to the extent that my arms were pinned to my sides. Just in the nick of time too, because within milliseconds of assuming the pencil position, I felt my feet smack very hard into the water.  
It felt as if I had come to a stop the instant I hit the water, the impact jarring through my legs and into my spine. I didn't, of course, and kept plunging deeper and deeper into water, the light I could see through my eyelids becoming less and less. Knowing that trying to stop my descent at this point was futile, I let my momentum run out on it's own, without stroking upwards, and wasting my air. However, as I felt my momentum fade and I started stroking for the surface, I found myself cursing silently that I had just had to scream on the way down. As my lungs really started to scream at me, I opened my eyes, tipping my head back to see the surface, and how far away I was. _So near, and yet so far_, I thought, the phrase taking on a whole new meaning. The last few feet to the surface were a frantic thrashing of limbs, all my air gone, and my limbs starting to grow heavy. It was with immense relief that I felt my face break the surface of the water, and I gasped, my lungs greedily sucking in as much oxygen as they could. My hair was sticking to my face, and I brushed it away with one hand, using the other to tread water. "I'll get you for that Halt!" I screamed up at the cliff, but I'm grinning. Just like the first time I had been off of the high dive at Ranch Camp, it had been fun after I had gotten after the sheer and utter terror. Except this had been slightly higher. By like twenty or thirty feet. No biggie.  
"I'm sure you will. Now get going." came his voice faintly from over the top of the ledge. I rolled my eyes but did as he said. I spun myself around in the water, facing the far side of the lake. It was quite a ways - I'm not sure just how far - but I wasn't worried. I've always been a good swimmer, though not competitive, and now that I was able to get air again I felt full of energy. Though I couldn't swim super fast, I could swim for a pretty good length of time. I could do the breast stroke for hours if I didn't try to go super fast. Other strokes I could probably have done too, but I knew that the breast stroke wouldn't make me exhausted. I fell into the familiar rhythm easily; pull, breathe, kick, glide, pull, breathe, kick, glide - a mantra that repeated again and again in my head. Pull, breathe, kick, glide, pull...  
Every once in a while, I'd open my eyes to see just where I was going and make sure I was going the right way. Then, I'd shut my eyes again as I plunged my head back under the water. Pull...breathe... I was running out of steam. I pulled my head out of the water. Only perhaps two laps worth of distance left. Thank goodness. I shut my eyes again, concentrating on just keeping going, not letting myself sink. It seemed both a few seconds and an eternity when I felt my shoulders and torso dragging against the silty bottom of the lake. With relief, I pushed myself up onto my knees, pulling my upper body out of the water. I was breathing hard, and my chest heaved, searching for more space to hold air. I felt like I had just sprinted for a long, long ways. I looked back after a while, when I felt like I could breathe more normally. The cliff was small in the distance, and I wondered where that stamina had come from. I couldn't jog that far without stopping. Then again, I'd always been better at swimming than jogging. I lay back in the water, letting myself half float, half rest against the bottom. I wondered if Halt was going to come and get me or if I was supposed to walk back. I decided I'd just lay here for now and find out.  
In a matter of minutes, I was asleep.

* * *

"Impressive. You didn't even cut corners."  
I flickered my eyes open, squinting into the sunlight. Someone stood over me, only a shadow.  
"Thanks Halt. Such high praise."  
"Don't mention it."  
I dragged myself out of the sun warmed water, first onto my knees, then to my feet. The water only came to the bottom of my shins, but it was still wet, and cool now that I was out in the air. I slogged to the shore, stumbling into the shade of a tree, before setting my wet self beside the trunk. My shirt and pants were soaked through - swim material hadn't been invented yet. Suddenly, I was amazingly grateful for the rough tank top like undershirt that I had worn under my long sleeved shirt. I peeled my top layer off, then laid it out on a flat stone so that the soggy cloth could dry off in the sun, before laying back onto the soft grass like plant that grew beneath the tree. It was really long grass - no lawn mowers remember - so it was like I was in a sea of green, the warm breeze producing ripples and waves.  
"I hope you don't intend on staying there." Halt said dryly.  
"I was thinking I could wait for my clothes to dry..."  
"Your thoughts are noted. Now get up."  
I groaned but did as he said. I scooped my shirt back up, but left it off in preference for the tank-top in the summer heat. "Now what?"  
"Well I was thinking something along the lines of climbing." Without another word, he turned and began walking away. I followed, wondering what he meant. I love climbing, of any kind really - that is, until it comes to getting down. However, I said nothing we walked through the forest. As I brushed the dripping strands of hair out of my face, I wished that I had a hair tie, but, of course, elastic hadn't been invented yet.  
We walked deeper and deeper into the forest, and I started to get a feeling for what it was I might be required to climb. I wondered idly what Sarah and Will were doing. Probably not being launched off cliffs, I thought unhappily.

* * *

"Remind me again why I'm doing this?" Sarah said darkly, before straining again against the wagon. The wooden cart was laden with stones, lots of them, and she'd been pulling at the cart for at least an hour now.  
"To strengthen your legs." Will told her. He walked silently behind the cart and give it a small push. The cart moved a few inches, and Sarah let out a small cry of triumph as he quickly moved away. Hiding a small smile, Will remembered how he had done things like this when he was an apprentice. Well, not exactly like this - Will had always been a pretty strong boy - but doing things that he had truly believed he couldn't do. As he watched the girl strain behind the cart, he thought how much easier it was to train an apprentice who was eager to please. However, he was well aware that when someone eager to please was unable to, they could become very crestfallen, and the way he saw it, a discouraged apprentice was about the worst you could get. So, a push here, a tug there, and viola! Training in body, mind, and confidence. "That will be all for now, Sarah," he said, seeing that the girl's face looked about catch on fire it was so red.

Sarah sagged gratefully backwards, learning heavily on the cart's side. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she wiped her forearm against it. Will came over and patted her on the shoulder.  
"You did very well." He told her, and she smiled slightly.  
"Thanks." she said, voice hoarse from the heat. "Hey, you used my real name this time."  
"Did I?" Will said mildly. When he had finally decided that the whole 'Sarah' thing hadn't been a joke, he had made a point to use the new name as soon as it was appropriate.

"Will!" It was Halt's voice, coming from a ways into the forest.  
"What?" Will called back.  
"Bring Sal and come join us!"  
"Coming!" then he turned back to Sarah. "Perhaps Halt will take a bit longer, though." Sal-no, Sarah, nodded with a grin, and followed him into the forest.

* * *

As Will and Sarah entered the clearing, I tapped my foot nervously, drumming my fingers on my thigh. Though I love climbing, I had a feeling that this wasn't going to be quite like Planet Rock.  
"What now, Halt?" Will asked jokingly.  
"Climbing." Halt replied. He pointed to the huge tree in the center of the clearing. "Get going."  
Sarah and I examined the mammoth of a tree, peering up at its towering top, which swayed in the wind. It was a great pine of some sort, and it towered over the surrounding trees.

"Um... that tree?" Sarah asked, pointing at the same one Halt was.

"Yes, that tree."

"Well, um, ya see, that might not work out..."

"She's afraid of heights." I told them, and Sarah nodded, slightly embarrassed.

"No, you're not." Halt said, "You just think you are. Now, get on with it."

"And what happens if we don't climb the tree?" Sarah asked, clearly trying to make an option cost analysis.

Halt looked thoughtful for a moment, before saying, "Well, I don't think you'll be getting any food for a while if you don't climb the tree."

"How long?" I know Sarah, and she was definitely willing to go for days to avoid climbing that tree.

He grinned wolfishly. "Until you climb the tree."

"Will?" Sarah pleaded, but he shook his head ruefully, smiling slightly.

"He still outranks me." Will replied, making Sarah groan.

"And I always will." Halt says, "Now you two stop stalling and get a move on!"

Sarah sighed and turns away, and together we went to examine our designated tree. It was as big as some of the smaller Sequoia's out west, marginally bigger than any I'd ever seen in Michigan. I guess that's what happens when you're forests are chopped almost to the point of disappearing. However, that was not the problem. The problem was that there were exactly zero branches between the ground and fifteen feet up. Even with a boost, there's no way we'd be able to reach that. I'm sure that their intention was for us to cling to the bark and skitter up like squirrels, but that was not at all likely to happen. So, instead, I began circling the tree, looking around for a nearby tree to climb up and jump to the tree that had been assigned to us. Unfortunately, it seemed that Halt had planned this all too well, as all the surrounding trees had no branches close to the ground either. The lowest one was perhaps ten feet off of the ground, and that's a big boost. Thoughtfully, I started fiddling with the closest thing to my hand, which was my knife belt. Slowly, as I registered what I was doing, an idea started to form. I meandered over to the tree with the lowest branches, and, pulling out my throwing knife, I gently tested it against the trunk of the tree, giving it a gentle jab. To my pleasure, even with minimal force, the tip sank into the tree, and it took more effort to pull out than put in. I called over Sarah, examining my throwing knife, and resting my thumb on the edge. I hissed, looking at the line of blood that welled from my finger. I hadn't even applied any pressure, and yet the blade had cut me. _Smart one, that's why it cuts into the tree so easily,_ I chided myself as Sarah came over. "What's up?"

"I have an idea," I told her, and she gestured impatiently that she'd already gotten that part. "Well, what if we take our saxes, and drive them into the trunk one above the other, and we could use them like a ladder to get onto the low branch of this tree. Then, we could jump from this tree to the other one."

Though Sarah looked wary about the whole thing, it appeared that she didn't have any better ideas. "But you're trying it out first," she told me, to which I responded with with a slightly nervous laugh.

She gave me her saxe, as I would need mine when I'm already up on hers. Using the same technique I might with a punch from my karate class, I drove the knife deep into the wood, blade parallel to the ground so as not to cut downwards when we stepped on them. I could only hope and pray that the knife was well built enough to not snap into pieces when we stepped on them. I gave it a yank backwards, and found that it didn't move an inch. Though I was pleased with the result in the short term, I called over my shoulder to our mentors, "We may need your help getting these out." Then, with a boost from Sarah, I managed to step somewhat precariously onto the hilt of the knife, and wrap my arm about the trunk. Then, pulling out my own saxe, I repeated the process, if a bit less gracefully. It's only then that I realized my error in planning. How on earth was I going to get onto this blade without a boost from Sarah? Trying things out, I tried to swing my leg over it, but found that I wasn't that flexible when I had to balance on the hilt of a knife. So instead, I decided to combine techniques, and placed my palms on the hilt, with my arms slightly bent, and very very slowly pushed down, raising myself off the hilt of the last knife, and transferring my weight and balance onto the next one. Now, as if this weren't tricky enough, I then had to get my foot also onto that little hilt (not to mention that my weakling arms were already starting to hurt). Moving very slowly as not to lose my balance, I slowly leaned forwards, then back, then forwards again as I attempted to maneuver my foot onto the hilt. Unfortunately, when I did so, I also knocked my inside hand off of the hilt. I yelped as I felt myself start to fall, and quickly took my now free hand and grasped desperately at the trunk of the tree, my foot slipping back off the hilt so that my thigh was supported on it instead. Feeling my upper body slip further down, I abandoned the knife to my leg and used my other arm to wrap all the way around the trunk, so that I was supported by both my arms and one leg on the knife hilt.

"Don't worry!" Will's voice came from directly below me. "If you fall, someone will catch you!"

"Probably." Halt added.

His sarcastic response triggered something in my brain, and not in a good way. "Another kind word of encouragement from Halt!" I snarled, my fear making me respond in a way that I normally wouldn't. All was silent below me after that, and I slowly was able to catch my breath, and get my heart beat back to normal. Unfortunately, this also meant my arms were getting really tired, and I needed to get a move on by that point. I took my unoccupied leg and managed to get the foot onto the hilt, and used it to help push me up, so that I was mostly standing. When I was able to get my other foot on it, I was golden, and was able to slide into a standing position. I heard a soft but encouraging cheer from below me, and I smiled. "Thanks Sarah!" I called down, and she called back ,"No problem!"

To my relief, the next branch was at waist height, and the one after that at head height. I grabbed the top one, allowing myself to step up onto the waist high one. "Coming up?" I called down.

"Not 'till you get to the other tree!" Sarah informed me, and I chuckled.

"Fine, but won't you be jealous when I'm down by the time you get across!"

"It won't take me near that long you little-"

"Children!" Will yelled over us, and we quit our squabling. Sighing, I continue up a few more branches before I get to my destination.

From the ground, it had looked as if there were two thick branches that touched in midair. However, from up here, the branches didn't seem nearly as thick, or as sturdy. Stomach flip flopping, I stood on the branch like a balance beam, with my arms out to either side, holding a branch. I forced myself not to look down at the ground, and instead stared straight ahead, at the branch that was my destination. There were handrail branches on that side too, much to my relief, but there was a gap of maybe four or five feet that was just me and the branches, one overlapping the other. Slowly, I walked out onto the branch, each step making it dip further and further towards the ground. My ears were tuned for any sound even slightly like a crack, so that I could make a hasty retreat back towards the trunk of the tree. However none came, and I found myself at the end of my hand rails, staring at the gap between the two trees. I took a couple of calming breaths, before calling down, "Okay, I'm gonna go for it - catch me if I fall!"

"Probably!"

"Shut _up _Halt!" I yelled, forcing myself to forget about him, about the drop beneath me, about all my fragile bones which I had never before broken. Then, with a massive force of will, I took a step back, pulled with my arms to build momentum, and ran with all my speed across the thin walkway in sky.

I can hardly remember what happened - it's like my mind blocked out what happened. But next thing I remember, I was clinging to the branch I had been running on, my abdomen partially on and partially off of it, my legs dangling frighteningly over the ground. Slightly panicked, I swung my legs over the branch, using them to cling on as well until I felt steady enough to continue. I slowly scooted backwards, and used the trunk and nearby branches to stand up, leaning against the tree with shaky legs.

"Are you okay?" Came the call, and to my surprise, it was Halt.

"Y-yeah." I said, voice shaking from the leftover adrenaline. "Yeah, I'm good." I looked down, fighting the vertigo so that I could smile reassuringly at Sarah. "Piece of cake."

Sarah looked at me, then at the tree, then at Halt. "Would you actually let me starve?"

Halt nodded somberly. "Of course I would. I give you my word as a Ranger."

Sarah sighed, then looked up at me. "Fine. Here I come."

"Oh dear god," I muttered, as she stumbled and fell on her way to the tree.

She must have heard me, because as she stood, she glanced over her shoulder and said, "No worries, gravity still works." Then, leaving Halt and Will with that little puzzle, she began the same arduous process as me.

* * *

**The last scene was a lot longer, but it's editing was completely erased after my little problem, so I re wrote it shorter for time purposes. If you would like, I can post a link to a less well written, but extended version of the scene.**

**I love it when people review, it makes me feel all happy.**

**And sorry for bad grammarness, late at night it is.**


	8. Chapter 8: Take Me Out to the Ball Game

**A/N: Well guys, here you are. As you can see, chapters are getting longer, so update time might get longer as well. This is where the plot line actually begins, so if you were waiting on that, here you go. It's late, so that's all I have to say for now. Please don't kill me for the ending.**

"While Will and I are away, I expect you two to do all of your exercises; running, swimming, shooting, knife throwing, push ups, sit ups -"  
"Yesyesyes, I get it." I said impatiently. It had been almost a month since we'd 'lost our minds' in Araluen. Since then, I must have lost ten pounds of fat, gained ten pounds of muscle, and become at least fifty percent fitter. Nothing near Ranger standard, of course, but better than before. I could now achieve not only one pull up, but several, do at least thirty five push ups (as opposed twenty one), could run a mile in six minutes (believe me when I say that it's not simple to go from a nine minute to a six minute mile), and could swim that lake without even being out of breath – or at least, not too out of breath. Sarah and I could both hit a target with an arrow now, though bulls eyes were still flukes. knife throwing, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. Is it just me, or does it make a lot more sense to throw a knife by the handle instead of the blade? Yeah, I thought so too. But apparently, the rest of this world didn't. No no, you throw it by holding it at the tip, with that wicked sharp blade only a few inches away from slicing your thumb off. I had already cut myself that way three separate times, one of those times requiring me to get stitches, and remember, no anesthetic. Sarah, however, hadn't cut herself once. Being the more cautious of the two of us, she was a lot more tentative with her throwing, and so didn't injure herself. However, because I was more confident, swift, and smooth with my throws, I hit the targets more often.  
But I digress. For the last month, we had been doing the most crazy things I could possibly imagine. I mean, come on. Cliff diving? Not a chance. My parents would have called the insane asylum long, long ago. And throwing a knife, much less by the tip? My Home Ec. teacher would have had a heart attack, and then a detention slip in her hand. But for a month, we had been doing these things and more as daily activities, becoming generally exhausted, eating a measly dinner ("to give you muscle and get rid of some of that flab") and then flopping into our beds.  
And now, they were leaving.  
"Lady Pauline and Alyss will be staying with you while we're away, and Ebony too." Halt continued, not caring about my interruption. "They will also be telling us if you aren't doing your exercises."  
"All day?" I said, my voice almost whiny.  
Halt thought for a moment. "No, I suppose not. You'd not do as good work, anyways, without someone here to make you." I flushed slightly, but laughed too, because I knew it was true. "Half a day then. Also, practice on Tiron every day, if you can. He needs some exercise after a month of rest."  
Tiron was the name of my horse. You want to know the funny part? Tiron is pull in Spanish. Maybe that was on purpose. I'd been grooming him every day, but my training had prevented me from riding him. Now, it seemed, I would be allowed to do so.  
"No problem, chief." I said, giving a mock salute. Halt raised one eyebrow, but said nothing. He turned back towards the cabin, where Will was talking with Sarah, no doubt telling her just about the same things. "Will! We'd best be going. Don't want to keep the king waiting too long, do we?"  
Will turned. "No, I suppose not." He whistled, and Tug trotted from behind the cabin, Abelard close behind. They whinnied with excitement; our training had prevented them from being ridden too, and they were excited to start off. The two rangers mounted their steeds and moved them in a circle so they faced us. "Don't let our wives spoil you too much." Will said teasingly, giving Tug a little jerk on the reign to remind him not to take off quite yet.

"It would be a shame if all you hard work was wasted because they can't control their urge to feed you." Halt added, and we rolled our eyes, knowing that we probably would have to be careful about that. Then, without another word, the pair spurred their horses onwards, heading towards Castle Araluen. We watched until they were hidden by the trees, waving when Will turned back to do the same. Left alone for the first time since our arrival, we looked at each other.  
"When do you think they get back?" Sarah asked me.  
"Well, if the books are anything to judge by, though Halt told me a week, they'll probably be back in a month or two because they got caught up in some crazy adventure with lots of chases, battles, barely escaping with their lives, et cetera, et cetera, and then they'll come home all innocent like "Oh sorry Alyss, Halt and I just got slightly delayed by that dragon." I said, and Sarah giggles.  
"I certainly hope not!" called a voice from the trees. We both whirled around just as Alyss and Lady Pauline came riding around the bend. We'd seen them intermittently throughout the month, but with four Rangers in one place, there simply wasn't enough room in the cabin, so they stayed up in Redmont Castle. Alyss rode in side saddle on a lovely Palomino, looking much like the books describe her; bright blue eyes complimenting her shimmering curly blonde hair, and very tall. When I had first met her, she had made me feel slightly less self-conscious about my voice, as she has a low voice like mine. Lady Pauline was right behind, riding a chestnut in the same way as her companion. Her hair was graying, but her face was still youthful. They both pulled to a halt before us, sliding from the saddle, reins still in hand.

"Oh, sorry!" I replied cheerily, "I didn't hear you coming!"

"What kind of Ranger can't even hear a horse coming?" Pauline chided jokingly, and I gave her a sheepish grin.

"A distracted one." I tell her, and she laughs brightly.

"Well, I suppose even you aren't so distracted as to want to miss lunch; why don't we make something up?" Alyss suggested, starting towards the stables.  
"Sounds good!" Sarah decided, reaching forwards to take the reins of Alyss' horse. "We'll take these guys, so you can go set up." The women acquiesced, Lady Pauline handing her horse over to me graciously, allowing me to lead him to the stable. As we walked in, I couldn't help but giggle as Tiron seemed to throw a jealous glance as Pauline's steed, which was at least a full foot taller than Tiron. "It's okay," I told him, "You could out run him any day." He tossed his mane, as if to say_, Well, yeah, I guess_. I patted him on the neck, and sneaked him some oats, before joining Sarah back by the front of the structure. From the crunching sounds that came from the other side of the barn, I could only guess that a similar interaction had taken place with her horse, Correr, pronounced Cor-rer. You wanna guess what that means in Spanish? To run. Any guesses on what that horse liked to do?  
"Now, what shall we have for lunch today?" Lady Pauline said as we returned, "What do you girls know how to make?"  
"Um... not a whole lot." I told her. Halt and Will had us make a meal once and, well, we're not going to be making any more meals any time soon.  
"That's alright. We'll just make a couple little salads." Alyss decided.  
"Salad?" Sarah mouthed at me. For the last month, we'd been eating almost nothing but salad. It wasn't as bad for Sarah, who is a vegetarian anyways, but I mean, it wasn't even good salad; just lettuce! Not even a dressing, or some peppers or onions or anything. I felt like a deer. And now, more salad. But, polite as we are, we decided to hold our tongues and let the women decide the meal for the day.

Much to our delight, the salad came with toppings.

* * *

"Okay, we need to do _something_ today." Sarah said. "It's been five days of practice, then sitting around. This is supposed to be like summer break. We need to get out."  
"Yeah, we do." I agreed. I thought for a moment then walked to the door of the cabin, called in, "We're going up to the castle!" then turned back and whistled. Tiron cantered from around back, with Correr just behind. Tiron came over and nuzzled me, as if to say, _Time to go run?_  
"You bet." I murmured in his ear, and he snorted happily. I swung up onto him bareback, as I had been practicing since Halt and Will left. I figured that I knew how to ride western saddle well enough that I could kind of transmit it to western saddle, but I'd only ridden bareback once or twice, and so had decided to practice that on our time off. Sarah did too, although because Correr was ever so slightly bigger, she had to get a bit of a running start to vault up onto his side. He looked back and gave her a look, and she shrugged. "Not my fault if you're tall." she said, and I swear as Correr turned he tossed his mane like a snubbed girl tosses her hair.  
We set out at a canter; we would have trotted, but trotting bareback is really painful, as there's no way to post and no padding of a saddle. Instead of taking the main road up to the castle, we chose to use a smaller forest trail that we used for our runs, which was much more interesting. Because the trail was small, the trees on either side were able to interlace their branches, giving the trail the look of a tunnel. Reaching branches snagged in my hair, and, annoyed, I tentatively released my death grip on Tiron's mane and reached back to put my hair up with what I had discovered to be the past's equivalent of a pony tail holder – a strip of leather. As soon as I was done, I hastily regained my grip on the horse, not comfortable riding bareback with only my legs to hold me on. I glanced over my shoulder to where Sarah was following on Correr, as she called up to me, "Correr doesn't like this speed – think we could go any faster?" Grinning, I clicked to Tiron and gave him a nudge with my heel, before letting out a little yelp of surprise as the sudden change in speed almost sent me falling to the ground. But, after my initial start, I was thrilled at the speed we could achieve.  
With our increased pace, it took only moments to burst from the trees, leaving them behind for the long whipping grass of the meadow that surrounded Redmont. Leaning forwards, we rode towards the main gate, where the guards straightened up, recognizing us by our cloaks.  
"What's wrong?" they called as we pulled to a stop, horses breathing heavily.  
"Oh, nothing. Just coming up for a look around." Sarah said.  
The two guards scrutinized us for a second, then just shook their heads. "You know, someday you're going to be coming full speed with a real emergency, and we won't be ready to let you through because we'll have done this one too many times." As they pushed open the gates, I thought just how many words were saved simply by being able to reference 'The Boy who cried Wolf'.  
Castle Redmont wasn't quite like you might expect. Instead of the walls holding only the castle, it held the majority of the village, large stone walls protecting it from harm. The town it's self was arranged like a ladder, with the gate at one point of the triangular walls, and then the streets arranged like rungs as the progressed towards the opposite side, where the castle was positioned. Then, to make travel easier, there were also several streets going the other way, so that your wouldn't have to walk all the way around to get to the next street over. At the far end of the town stood the impressive Castle Redmont, it's towering structures built entirely of thick red stone. Around it was a large field, like an enormous lawn, which was allowed to be used by any of Redmont's inhabitants until the sun went down.  
It was Sunday, so most apprentices had the day off. It seemed logical enough to me that they might gather on the grass before the castle. We walked our horses to the area, and discovered that we were correct. It was a game I had never seen before, like some kind of combination of basketball and the Mayan sport of Pok-a-Tok (look it up). As far as I could tell, it involved a small hacky sack type ball, which you couldn't touch with your hands, and the object of the game was to get the ball to your opponent's side of the field and get it through a hoop much like those used in basketball, except with no net. Though it was mostly boys playing, I spotted a couple of girls in the mix as well, wearing trousers and tunics.  
Sarah and I watched the game inquisitively for a while, before apparently someone won and the game ended, everyone gathering in the middle of field.  
Feeling like doing something adventurous and fun, and not particularly caring what the repercussions might be, I glanced over at Sarah, and said, "Hey, fancy a game of baseball?"

Sarah looked at me, looked at the group of kids, doing a quick head count, and then looked back at me. "Hey, why not?" She said, before leading the way towards the group of teens on the field.

When we got there, what had at first appeared to be a conversation turned out to be complete chaos. Everywhere voices were yelling,  
"I want to play -!"  
"No, lets play -!"  
"I think we should-!"  
Annoyed by this lack of action or any kind of coherency, I yelled, "HEY!" At the top of my lungs, getting everyone's attention.  
"Hey it's Katie and Sal!"  
"Where've you guys been?"  
"What's going on?"  
"HEY!" I yelled again. I waited for the buzz to go down. "Thank you." I said finally. "Now, I think we should play baseball."  
"Base... ball?"  
I resisted the urge to gape. Of course they hadn't heard of baseball, it hadn't even been invented until at least the 1800's, at a guess. So instead, I smiled and said, "Why don't you let us show you."

* * *

"Hey, battabattabatta..." came the call from off to the side. I stood, a bat in my hands, waiting for the pitch, ignoring the voice. I had to focus on the pitch, as they came much faster than they had on my softball team, due to the fact that we were using overhand pitches. A wiry kid stood before me, a crude baseball in his one hand, a crude mitt on his other. I watched attentively as the pitch came and the ball curved towards me. Wait for it, wait for it...  
_Crack_! My bat made contact with the ball, and I sprinted towards our odd little first base. The ball had gone way over the outfielder's heads, and so I tagged first and started towards second. There, I found I had to stop, because moments after my arrival the second baseman had the ball in his hand. Despite the heat, I was not breaking a sweat. This might be attributed to the fact that I was wearing only my undershirt and a pair of leggings that I had cut to turn into shorts. If Halt and Will had been here, they would most certainly have had a few choice words to say to me about my choice of clothing.  
I watched as Sarah stepped up onto home plate. She had sculpted her own bat, so the one I had been using lay in the dust. Just as we had predicted, Halt and Will had now been gone for three weeks, and so we had tried to do something productive with our free nights. I had been working on the bases as Sarah worked on her bat. Originally, the bases (and bat for that matter) had been jaggedly cut pieces of wood that the carpenter's apprentice had been able to save for us, and they had been perhaps the biggest safety hazard to ever grace the sporting world. So, little by little, I had whittled them down to reasonably sized and shaped bases, ones that you were less likely to impale yourself on. After we had all pitched in (no pun intended) and finished our own gloves, and we had fashioned a ball, we were ready to go, and start this 'brand new' game.  
_Crack_! Sarah too sent the ball soaring over the outfielders head. I started my dash towards third, thinking how much better Sarah's hand-eye coordination had gotten. Will and Halt had taught us some extent of hand to hand combat (Sarah more than me, because I used to take Karate) and the results were visible not only in her fighting skills but also in things like this, which required communication between hand and brain.  
I was almost at third (another little difference there was that the bases had to be much further apart in baseball) when a commotion broke out behind me. Refusing to be distracted, I tagged third before starting towards home, glancing over my shoulder to be sure. Then, I skidded to a stop as, for no apparent reason, the ball appeared to switch directions and be coming back towards home plate… straight at me! I yelped and dove out of the way, the ball slamming into the ground where I had been standing. Embedded in it was a black shafted arrow.  
"QUIET EVERYONE!" came a yell, and I realized that the commotion had been a large crowd in the street that was parallel to our field. Taking another look at the arrow, just to be sure, I started running towards the crowd, my footsteps loud in the eerie silence. As the speaker began again, I began to try and push my way through the crowd that surrounded him, shoving people out of the way. I discovered that Sarah was just behind me as she pushed out of the mass together, emerging into the small clearing around the two mounted riders within the ring.  
"I bring grave news from Castle Araluen." Halt and Will looked awful, their cloaks torn and dirtied, and their faces lined with exhaustion. Halt's voice was hoarse as he continued on, his dark words seeming to echo in the unnatural quiet.

"King Duncan is dead."


	9. Chapter 9: Over My Head (Cable Car)

**A/N: Ohmigosh guys, I got not one, not two, but THREE reviews on my last chapter! You make me so happy! But seriously, thank you, I really appreciate it.**

**Heads up, this chapter is REALLY long. 11,400 words. So, you know, get settled in, make some popcorn, whatever.**

** Prohime: So, hi. Thanks for reviewing. But I'm assuming I must know you... You've read my Sherlock Holmes story, and apparently 'The Dream' (the Halt dream right?) which are only posted on Goodreads, and, well, no one who I don't know reads my Goodreads things, and yet, you write unlike anyone I know (I think), and "The Dream" was written a long time ago, so... yeah. Who are you? And have no fear, the dream is going to be included, though those of us who haven't read that won't get it... oh shwell. **

** Farmersdaughter: Oh haha I was really unclear with that wasn't I? Feel free to read this chapter, it's already been updated, edited, etc. The link that I'm gonna post below is to another website, the one where I originally posted this story's rough draft. There are more chapters up there than here, and THAT is where I don't want you to read ahead, becuase it won't be as good or as coherent as it will be here. I'm making major changes to the plot, so if you read that and then come back you're going to be like "Whoa what just happened." So yeah. You can read this, just don't read ahead in that, okay? :)**

** goodreads(.com)/story/show/249495-the-switch?chapter=7**

** You're going to have to take the parenthasis out of the .com, but it should take you to the place. And it's not all the way at the bottom, all the way at the bottom is what was once another plot line with Will + Halt's apprentices, but I got so incredibly bored of them that I've cut them out. You can read that if you want, but don't expect me to be finishing it. I'm watching you. No reading past chapter nine... *stares pointedly* **

**Okay and now on to the actual story!**

"Our actual mission went entirely according to plan. It was when we returned that things went wrong." Will's voice warbled slightly, as if he was holding back tears. Sarah, Alyss, Lady Pauline, and I were all gathered around the table in the cabin, listening intently"The servants hadn't even woken up yet when it happened. There was no noise, no clatter. All that we know is that when his manservant came in with his breakfast, he was lying dead on his bed, with a blade in his heart. There was a rope out the window, apparently where the murderer escaped, but we couldn't track him. That's where we've been these last two weeks - looking for the killer."  
"The entire country is in a sort of lockdown in an attempt to find him, but we aren't holding out much hope." Halt was also strongly affected by the loss of the king, I could tell, but he showed it in an entirely different way than Will. His face was impassive, unreadable, and if you didn't know him well, you might have mistaken it for apathy. "Not to mention that, since the current heir to the throne is on holiday in Nihon-Ja, there is no one to direct the goings on of the government." He pauses. "But perhaps Horace's absence is for the best." However, I could hear in his tone of voice that he was thinking the same thing that we were; If the killer's sponsor was able to get him close enough to King Duncan to kill, how hard would they have to try to get an assassin close enough to an unsuspecting Horace?  
Alyss, eyes watery and cheeks flushed red, stood abruptly, saying "I'm going to bed, goodnight." She quickly did an about face and hastened from the cabin. As the door swung shut, we could hear her quiet sobs.  
"Oh dear." Lady Pauline said, standing and following her out. If Lady Pauline was at all upset, she was masking her emotions as well as her husband.  
"Perhaps that would be a good idea for all of us." Halt said, he too rising from the table where we had all been sitting. Will stood, and the pair exited to their rooms. Sarah and I stared at each other across the table. The tension of moments before still hung in the air, making it uncomfortable to stay, and uncomfortable to go.  
"I always liked Duncan." Sarah told me. "He was a good guy."  
"Yeah." I nod. "I feel like I almost knew him."  
The silence stretched on, seemingly forever. Finally, I stood, and without a word, strode down the corridor to my small room. Sitting on my bed, I stared at the wall across, elbows resting on my knees. It was the strangest disconnect; I had never personally known the man, and so I couldn't really feel that much sadness. I mean, it wasn't a good thing he was dead - death is very rarely good news - but it was someone dying in a book. Someone who isn't the main character. (Okay, I'll admit it. I love reading, and whenever a mannish character dies that I really loved, I will cry.) But King Duncan had never been a main character - he'd been a... a plot moving tool. It felt awful to say, but it was close to true. But now, he wasn't a character, he was as real as you or me... Trying to push the thoughts and negative vibes I was feeling away, I unbuckled my knife belt, removed my cloak, and then, fully clothed, laid out to go to sleep.

* * *

Just to stay in the mood, nature decided to thunderstorm all night. And it wasn't just a normal thunderstorm either. This was the kind of thunderstorm where you're convinced that some aliens decided to play a practical joke and dump the atlantic ocean on your house. Not to mention that my house happened to be a rickety old wooden cabin in the woods. After the first clap of thunder woke me up, I was convinced that the house was literally going to get washed away. I'm not afraid of thunder, but most of my night was spent with my head partially buried under a pillow, the blankets drawn up over my head, and one eye peeking out to watch as a slight amount of moisture ran through the cracks in my walls.  
**_BANG BANG BANG!_**  
I sat bolt upright. I'm not afraid of the dark, or things that go bump in the night, but I _am_ afraid of things going _bang bang bang_ loudly on doors, because in books this is always a prelude to something very very bad.  
And in case you hadn't noticed, I was now inside a book.  
I jumped to my feet, snatching my knife belt from where I had discarded it. If something was going to go down, you better believe I was going to be ready. I trew open my door and stepping into the hall, where I was blinded almost instantly by a light that completely ruined my night vision. I blinked a couple of times, before being able to focus on the face that was illumined there. It was Halt, holding his candle again. For the first time, I could see real emotion on his face. Grief was written in deep lines all across it. Who could blame him? He had just lost one of his best friends. There was something else in his face too, though. Dread. In my tired state, it took me a moment, but after a while, I was able to figure it out; it was perfectly possible, perhaps even probable, that this was a messenger telling us of Horace's death, his assassination, his -  
"OPEN THE DOOR! IN THE NAME OF THE KING, OPEN THIS DOOR!"  
Halt flinched at the second line, ever so slightly, before steeling himself, completely masking his emotion, and starting down the hallway. I followed, moving as silently as I could, just as Halt had taught me. It's amazing what one learns in a month.  
Halt opened the door, at first just a crack, then flinging it open all the way. There stood a man, soaked to the skin, jaw line length black hair plastered to his scalp, getting dumped on by the storm. He looked exhausted, the look accentuated by the mud splattered all over himself.  
"Who're you?" Halt said testily. I peered at the man curiously from behind Halt, standing perhaps two feet behind him. I felt a hand on my shoulder and tensed, eyes dilating, but when I turned back, it was just Will, placing a hand intended to comfort. Grief was written even more deeply on his face than on Halt's, although he hadn't known the King as well. Then again, Halt was, like, the master masker of emotions. Even if Halt was twice as aggrieved as Will, Will would appear to be more distressed. He was all too clearly expecting bad news as well. I wished I could reassure him, but of course, I couldn't.  
Sarah wasn't up. Sarah is a _deep_ sleeper. Once, her uncle was at her house and he had a stroke, and she slept through ambulance sirens, pounding footsteps, and yelling medics right outside her door. She's also slept through a huge hole falling out of her ceiling at home. So, a thunderstorm and someone pounding on the door would not be waking her tonight.  
"I come bearing a message from Castle Araluen." the stranger replied, slyly sticking a foot into the door frame in case Halt tried to shut him out.  
"If it's that Duncan's dead, we've already heard." Halt said bitterly. He began to close the door, despite the fact that he had undoubtedly noticed the man's foot by now.  
"No, it's not that." The man said, placing his hand on the other side of the door, giving a gentle shove. "It's a summons. May I come in?"  
Halt hesitated, and Will stepped up. "Yes, of course." He gently but firmly opened the door, pushing away Halt's hand. The man gratefully entered just as a flash of lightning illuminated the doorway, showing the man's horse standing in the small clearing.  
"Thank you." said the man. Will shut the door, and the sound of rain dimmed slightly, although the sound of it drumming on the roof was still clearly audible. The man didn't make a move to enter the house past the area of the door, however, so we were all forced to stand out of courtesy.  
"I come to inform you that our late king's nephew, Thomas, has requested you and all the other Rangers to be at Castle Araluen by next week. In the absence of the heir to the throne, Sir Horace, Thomas has...temporarily taken the throne in an attempt to keep the country in some sort of order." The man informed them, wiping away a strand of soaked hair from his face. A small puddle had formed at his feet, his dripping clothes continuing to make it larger.  
"I see." Halt said. "Is that all?"  
"Well, yes but-"  
"The we shall bid you goodnight." Halt re-opened the door, and gestured for the man to leave. Looking somewhat confused and startled, the man stepped back into the downpour, and Halt slammed the door.  
Halt stood rigid for a moment, looking inordinately irate, then turned slowly. There was still no emotion on his face, but somehow this lack emotion seemed dire. He looked at me for a moment before saying, "Well, get back to bed." I did as I was told, moving slowly through the dark to my room, and crawled back into my bed after replacing my knives. As I drifted to sleep, I heard Halt and Will's voices in the other room, the steady drone punctuated with claps of thunder a background as I fell asleep.

"Get up! I said get up!" Halt's voice was accompanied by several hard thuds on my door. "Pack your things, we're going to Castle Araluen."  
Groggily, I pushed myself up, looking about the room for the faint light that should have been seeping through the cracks in my wall in the morning. Finding none, I called, "What time is it?"  
"Three in the morning. Now get up!"  
I groaned. Three in the morning? "I need a candle! Mine's burned down!" I call, my hand finding nothing but a stub in my holder.  
The door opened a crack, and a light slid in, before the smacking shut again, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. Down the hall, I heard a similar conversation happening , except it was Will, and he sounded a bit groggy himself.  
I swung my legs out of bed, shaking my head to wake myself. Somewhat unsteadily, I packed my bag, and completed my uniform by donning my cloak and knives. Then, after shaking the wrinkles out of the clothes I had slept in and grabbing the candle, I stumbled out of my room and out into the hallway.  
Will was still pounding on Sarah's door. "Get up, please Sarah!"  
I dropped my bag on the floor and moved over to him. "Let me handle this." I said. Opening her door, I silently moved in before shutting it. "Sarah," I coaxed, "If you don't get up, I'll have to pull you out of bed."  
Sarah groaned a response. Personally, I was feeling the same way, but I didn't want to face Halt's wrath because Sarah wouldn't get up.  
"Fine, you asked for it." I set down the candle, grabbed her by the ankles, and with a jerk, I yanked her out of the narrow bed and onto the floor.  
"Ow!" Sarah said, sitting up, rubbing her elbow where she had landed on it. "You weren't actually supposed to do that!"  
"Yeah, well." I opened her clothes chest and tossed her her outfits. "Put these in a bag, we're leaving soon."  
"Why? What time is it?" She pulled out her own bag and started stuffing the articles of clothing into it.  
"Three in the morning."  
"Figures. Is it still raining?"  
I listened for a moment. "Not hard." I decided, as there was still a faint hiss of rain but it wasn't very loud.  
"Oh good. So we'll only be soaked after an hour, instead of instantly."  
"Yeah."  
Sarah staggered to her feet, with a little assistance from me. I was starting to wake up by now, and so I rushed Sarah along a bit as we made our way to the front of the cabin. Halt and will were waiting impatiently for us at the door, and as soon as we were in the room, Halt was exiting, saying, "Let's go."  
I'll compact our journey to Castle Araluen into a paragraph. It was wet. And cold. And exhausting. Halt was adamant that we had to get to the Castle in one day, despite the fact that we had a week to get there. It took all day and all night. We got there just as the watery looking sun was rising over the horizon on the second day of our travels. I don't even remember what happened once we got there. It was all a vague blur, and before I knew it a was waking up in a warm, heavily downed bed. I yawned hugely, rubbed my eyes, and sat up. I was in a room that was made of a warmly colored stone, giving the room a cosy feel. There was a large window that had two shutters pulled back to reveal the midday sun. The chairs in the room were every bit as cushy as the bed; definitely a king's furniture. An_ ex_king's furniture, I thought with a grimace.  
"Good morning!" said a peppy voice. I virtually leaped out of bed, whirling to find the source. There sat a young maid, perhaps a few years older than me. Or how old I was now. So, like, eighteen. She had an infectious smile on her face, and she looked at me like it was perfectly normal to wake up in a castle and find a maid staring at you. Well, I guess I don't know, is it normal to have people staring at you when you wake up at a castle?  
"Sorry I startled you!" The maid said in that cheery voice. "I suppose you're not used to having maids, are you?"  
"Um, no..."  
"Well, while you're staying here, you'll be taken care of by me!" the maid informed me. "I'm Julian." I took the hand she offered.  
"Kathryn." I replied.  
"Well it's very nice to meet you. I suppose you'll be wanting to wear your own clothes for now." she said. She was one of those people who was perfectly happy to have a one sided conversation. "But, if you need any dresses for when you go before Sir Thomas, I can lend you one. They're not as nice as you might like, but they're better than wearing that cloak. Not that it's not good, I mean, I'm sure it's good for being a Ranger and all, but it's not becoming for a woman to go in trousers to a formal occasion. I can lend you some earrings too, although it doesn't look like you have your ears pierced. That's okay, a necklace will do just fine." I reached up to my ears, and was surprised to find that my ears were indeed unpierced. I shrugged philosophically. Not like I needed them pierced in this place any who.  
Julian continued on her train of thought for a while, bustling around the room doing various tasks. Eventually, there was a stack of my clothes for the day folded neatly on my bed, even my cloak and my knives, laid delicately across the bed. My bow remained in the corner, however. "I'll go make you a bath, so you just sit tight and I'll come get you when it's ready, okay? Emelia will be in in just a minute to bring you your breakfast too, so you can have that while you wait." She continued to talk as she exited the room, but they were soon shut out by the door.  
I sat back down on my bed, feeling tired already just from listening to tha girl talk. I'd have to find Sarah's room, I thought idly, looking about the room. There was a book sitting on the bedside table, and I picked it up. Becoming a ranger had not dulled my love of reading. As I skimmed the first page, I discovered it was a realistic fiction, or I guess it would be sci-fi for the time period. It wasn't all that outlandish, though one couldn't say it perfectly described the twenty first century. After the first couple pages, I set it back down, realising that the main attraction in the book was the 'futuristic' technology, which was not all that amazing to me.  
A few minutes afterward, another girl, presumably Emilia, walked in and gave me a small metal tray laden with something that looked like pancakes, a sauce of some sort, some small sausage like meats, and a glass of milk. I ate them greedily, as our meals the day before had been small and less frequent than usual. Emilia returned a few minutes later to retrieve the tray, followed soon afterward by Julian, who led me to the bath that she had drawn up. "You can wash up, the towels are over there," at this time she pointed to a corner of the bathroom, "and you remember where your room is, right? You can go back there when you're done, and ring for me and I'll help you with your hair. You've woken up a bit late, so after that you can join your companions for lunch. You know, you're not the only ones who came yesterday. There were two other groups, and they'll be eating with you. Well, enjoy!" Julian bustled out of the room, shutting the bulky wooden door behind her.  
I turned back to the bath. I definitely needed to relax after that burst of energy.  
When I finished with my bath and had changed into my fresh clothes, I walked back to my room, trying to move silently on the stone floors, which I hadn't yet had a chance to try yet. It was very much the same as with packed earth, but you had to be more careful not to scuff on this one, as not only would it hiss, like with dirt, but it would let out a little squeak that would easily give you away. It was useful knowledge, and I noted it mentally.  
When I entered my room again, I stood, somewhat unsure of what to do. I'd seen this in movies, I thought. There had to be a bell pull somewhere.. ah! There is was. I grabbed it and yanked it lightly, listening with curiosity to the faint jingle I heard from somewhere below me. It seemed only moments before Julian bustled in.  
"I hope your bath was relaxing! Come, let's sit you down and we'll see what we can do with your hair." She said. She dragged a chair from the corner and moved it to a small desk near the window that was letting sunlight stream into the room. The desk had a mirror in the back board, and so could be used for hair styling and (heaven forbid) makeup application. A brush came out of a hidden pocket in Julian's dress, and it began running through my hair. I don't know how, but as she brushed my hair out, she managed not to cause even the slightest pain to my scalp. Even I yank my hair when I brush it! As she pulled the tangles from my hair, she talked up a storm. "Unfortunately, the temporary king can't eat with you until everyone who's coming has gotten here. He's very busy, trying to hold everything together, you know, with our late king's tragic death. He is meeting with tons of people, all of them a bit strange, but I'm sure it'll all come to good. He's been requesting so many maps lately - I've been delivering them - it's as if he's planning a war! But of course, now would not be the time for that, he's probably trying to figure out how best to manage all the chaos that's no doubt running rampant everywhere else. You know, it's really lucky that Sir Thomas was here when the King was assassinated, otherwise there would be no order here at all... there. We'll just let those dry in those nice little ringlets, and we can look at what you can wear when you are called for an audience with Sir Thomas. I've got a couple dresses that you can use..."  
You get the idea. She had pinned my hair around little cylinders like curlers before leading me to her quarters. After much fuss (on her part, not mine), we finally picked out a emerald green dress that was of course floor length, but had rebelliously short sleeves. She also brought me a nice little emerald necklace, that came with a pair of earrings, but unfortunately, in this universe, my ears were not pierced. She offered to pierce them for me, but I figured that Halt wouldn't let them stay anyways, and politely declined. By the time we had this all figured out, my hair was dry. We went back up to my room and, after hanging the dress up and placing the necklace in one of the desk drawers, Julian delicately extracted the curlers. My hair was curled the same way Alyss's was, like it was wrapped around a pole. It wasn't nearly as elegant, as hers were like pure gold, and mine was more like a wood bark color, but they were much better looking than my normal, slightly wavy style. And, much more obnoxious, might I add. They continually fell in my face and I had to keep pushing them back.  
"Make up, I think." Julian said thoughtfully. "You'd look nice in a lush green eyeliner if you plan to wear that cloak, and a bit of dusky blush to match with the brown..."  
"No no, really, that's not necessary..." I'd never really found time for makeup, even when everyone else in my grade was wearing it. I'm not particularly beautiful, but I'm not so un-proud of my face that I want to hide it behind dust and paint. "I don't want to take up your time."  
"Oh, it's no trouble!" Julian informed me. "It won't take a minute..."  
All too unfortunately, it took much more than a minute, more like ten. I came out looking like I had been attacked by a makeup store, or like the average American teen, take your pick. It didn't look bad, but it was still much more than I was used to. Her above description was pretty accurate, with the addition of a subtle red lipstick, and something similar to mascara. It was awful, but I put up with it, if only to make Julian happy. She seemed like the kind of person who would be very hurt by someone not liking her makeup application.  
"Oh, you look gorgeous!" Julian exclaimed, pulling my hair back behind my shoulders. I did look very girly, at least.  
"Um thanks Julian..." I said slowly, not letting my discomfort at the makeup show through my words.  
"Oh, of course you'll be hungry now." Julian said, standing. "Come along, it's just lunch time now! I'll show you to the dining area."  
We passed through a seemingly endless maze of corridors and passageways, and I found myself being given a tour of the building as I went. "This is the library. It's got a collection that's as old as the castle. I bet you like books; feel free to take as many as you like, as long as you return them. This is the ballroom; yes, it's quite impressive. But you wouldn't believe how long it takes to clean. This here leads to the courtyard; the king uses, I mean, used, it as a place for sword practice. It really is a tragedy you know, the king's death. We all loved him, the servants you know. He was so kind, and never seemed to get angry-"  
"JULIAN! BE QUIET FOR ONCE AND COME SHOW THIS GIRL TO THE DINING HALL!" The call came from down a hallway, and although it was loud, it was not an unkind comment.  
Julian rolled her eyes. "YES SUSAN!" she called back. "Susan's the head maid. She's the oldest here, almost forty, can you believe it? You would think she would have retired..."  
We came to a door, and Julian and I waited patiently outside of it. There was a muffled conversation, a bit like an argument, that I only caught snatches of, with two different voices. "Come on-" "-it's fine-" Don't want-" "Stop your-" "Just-" The door swung open, and out staggered Sarah, before the door smacked shut. She immediately swung around and pounded on the door, yelling, "Just let me take it off!" When there was no answer, Sarah sighed. "I'm doomed." she muttered, before turning around.  
Apparently, maids like makeup. Sarah, too, had insisted that she wear ranger wear for today, but apparently her hair and make up status had been left unchecked until it was too late. Sarah has always been pretty; her hair is a really nice brown, she has a pretty face, etc. But now, she was _pretty_. Her hair was done up in a bun that was twisted on top of her head in the medieval style. Her face had been lightly powdered, making her deep tan somewhat more like her complexion from home, which had been more pale, though not ghost white like some people. She had a bit of lipstick on, some very lightly applied blue eyeliner, and just a hint of blush on her cheeks.  
"Wow." I said. "You look good."  
"Thanks." Sarah said dryly, "I feel like I was attacked by a bag of flour."  
Julian laughed. "Susan never has been the most gentle person to attend to personal appearance, but the result is always good. This way."  
And so, our guided tour began once more. "Oh, that? It's just the stables, where you entered yesterday, don't you remember? No, of course not, you were both exhausted. But don't worry, both of your horses are being taken care of. Their a bit small, if I do say so my self, as I saw them riding in, but they are beautiful creatures. And so fast! I could have sworn you were galloping, but you were just at a canter! I suppose you could, since you two don't ride side saddle. I always wear dresses, you see, so I have to ride side saddle, but you are rangers so you don't have to wear dresses. But on the down side, it must be quite drab wearing the same things every day, especially when they're - oh, here we are! The dining room's just through these doors. Ring for me anytime, okay? Bye!" Julian half sauntered, half skipped down the hallway, humming softly to herself.  
Sarah looked at me. "Is she always like that?"  
I nodded. " I wonder what Halt and Will will say?" I say, gesturing to my face.  
Sarah shrugged. "Only one way to find out." She twisted the door handle and heaved backwards. The heavy oaken doors swung open, and we stepped through.  
First thing that happened: Both Halt and Will caught sight of us, with Halt raising a condescending eyebrow, and Will's eyes growing huge as he gasped, "What _happened _to you?!"

Second thing that happened: Every eye in the room, maybe twenty in all, swung to face us. We were the center of attention.  
I flushed, and I'm sure had I not had a coating of makeup on, my face would have been bright red. Sarah, for her part, didn't seem to flush at all, so it's possible that my blush was covered too. "Ah..." I said, not sure what to say.  
Sarah spoke properly first. "That's what every girl wants to hear as a first reaction when they walk through the door."  
Her sarcastic words released some of the tension in the room, and the others laughed softly. It sounded very much like something Alyss would have said, in the same situation.  
Will, though he looked slightly sheepish now, continued, "But, but how...?"  
"But what? We look like girls? It's a miracle! A girl looking like a girl!" I commented as I sat, and a couple others chuckled. "No, but seriously, this happened by force."  
"I normally wouldn't be caught dead wearing this." Sarah remarked, reaching up to touch her towering hair before sitting next to me. "But the maid - Suzan - shut me out of my room so I couldn't wash it off."  
"You should see what I am gonna have to wear when we see the king." I told them. "Julian is loaning me a dress... It's something, that's for sure."  
"No." Halt said. "Even if you are girls, Rangers do _not _wear dresses."  
"I don't think I have a whole lot of say in the matter." I informed him. "Julian and Susan would team up on me and force me into that thing if it killed them."  
"And Suzan is... something." Sarah added. Apparently, a couple of the other rangers had also encountered her, as there were a couple grumbles of agreement.  
"Anyways." Will said, still looking a bit bewildered. "These are our fellow Rangers. You knew them at a time, but you probably don't anymore. This here's Gillan, and this is Jim, and this is..." the list went on and on, and I gave up trying to remember them all. Two of the twenty were apprentices, both of them male. Them and Gillan were the only people who I could remember the names of.  
Gillan was more or less as I had imagined him. He was indeed a redhead, though it had brown mixed into it, and he did have a small, neatly trimmed beard upon his chin. His eyes were a deep brown that I could tell normally were filled with jovial happiness, but were currently filled with a deep sadness. The two apprentices were named Justin and Ian. Justin was perhaps a year older than I, and had jaw line black hair, with eyes of the same color. He looked very much like I had imagined Fang from the Maximum Ride series. Well, minus the black wings. I think I would have noticed those. Ian was a boy of perhaps fourteen, and had shortcut platinum blond hair. He was oddly pale for an apprentice ranger, and I could guess that he was a fairly new addition to the ranger corps. His eyes were a pale blue that seemed both two dimensional and to be bottomless at the same time. Both seemed kind enough, and also seemed to be untouched by the king's passing, although they seemed to be trying to be. Very much like me, I thought. To them too, King Duncan had been a secondary character in their stories, and so the tragedy wasn't a direct hit. All the other Rangers were looking very distraught, and I was a bit surprised that all these people had known him personally.  
"Greetings, Katie, Sal." Gillan said, a little smile flicking across his face. "I regret that you seem to not remember me, or anyone else. I could make things very complicated."  
"Gillan." Halt said with mock severity, "It's not Katie and Sal. It's now Kathryn and Sarah. Don't ask," he hastened as Gillan's mouth opened. "I don't know."  
"Okaaayyy..." Gillan said, looking at us with a jokingly disdainful look. "If you say so."  
"And I do." Sarah said. She had been most adamant in the use of her real name, more so than me. And I had been pretty annoyed. "Now, what's for lunch?"  
"Salad." Justin said, making a face. "With no meat."  
"Joy." I said dryly. Sarah of course, didn't care a bit. Vegetarians. What do you do with them?  
We ate the meal, hiding from reality with small talk and idle chatter. As soon as the plates were empty, we all stood and, trying not to be rude, but also wanting to get out of the somewhat awkward atmosphere, exited the room. As it turned out, we all kind of swarmed the hallway, just trying to vacate the premise. Halt stopped me on my way back through the maze. "Meet me in the courtyard in half an hour. Bring your bow - we'll be practicing your archery. And bring your knives too." I nodded, and he strode off down an adjacent hallway. Then, I went back to my task of trying to retrace my steps to my room.

* * *

"No, no, no. You're releasing too soon. You do it like this, see?" Justin threw his knife, and it impaled the target in the second to center ring. I nodded, mutely, and strode quickly to get my knife, which had arced over the target and gone sparking against the cobble stones of the yard.  
Halt had left me with Justin a little while ago, to go talk with Will and Gillan. And, it was still at that awkward stage where the person who's teaching you doesn't know you very well, and so they feel weird correcting you. And the person being corrected wants to show that they understand, but doesn't want to look mopey about being corrected... so, yeah. Not much progress there. We'd changed almost immediately to knife throwing when he'd seen that skill compared to my archery. It was, to say the least, a little shabby. And Justin was trying, really hard, to fix my still awful technique.  
I came back, and gripping my knife by the tip, whipped it about, releasing ever so slightly later. The knife thunked into the edge of the target, just barely edging into the second to outside ring.  
"Better." Justin commented, and he went over and pulled both blades from the target. He handed mine back by the hilt, before saying, "Perhaps we should move on for now, end on a positive note. Do you know double knife defense?"  
"Um, I know the theory of it, but I guess I don't actually know how to do it." I told him. I knew the general idea, as I'd said, from the Ranger's Apprentice books, namely book two. But, as might be expected from an average American girl in the suburbs, I'd never actually tried the maneuvers.  
"Alright. So, first, I'll be needing to get a sword. I'll get Gillan's."  
"Will Gillan be okay with that?" I asked tentatively, not wanting to bring anyone's rage down upon me, especially if they had a sword.  
"Don't worry, I borrow it all the time." He grinned and walked into the castle, presumably to fetch the weapon. It took me a few moments, but after a while, I inferred that Justin was most likely Gillan's apprentice.  
When the boy returned, he had a glinting scabbard in his hand. He pulled the blade out as he stepped onto the courtyard cobbles. He handled it easily, as if he had some training with it. "First things first, over hand cut." He brought the sword down in a demonstratory manner, in slow motion, miming a cut from over his head. "You make an X with your knife blades, bracing one against the other. No, like this." he replaced the sword in it's scabbard for a moment, which was now strapped to his waist, and adjusted my hands slightly. Then, without warning, he had the sword out, and cutting downward with lightning speed. I yelped, and braced my arms without thinking. There was an impact in my hands, and then the motion stopped. I looked up, as I had turned my head away in fear, and found the sword blade stuck in the crossed knives. "See? Like that."  
I scowled at him a moment, before laughing. "Gee, never thought that I'd get a demonstration like that."  
"Yeah, well. Just copying Gillan." then he flushed slightly. "Not that I'd ever do that."  
I laughed, flushing slightly as well, feeling embarrassed along with him because I knew I did that with my Dad, and was doing it somewhat with Halt already. And, Justin undoubtedly could see it, because as soon as I'd gotten back to my room, I'd washed every spot of makeup off of my face. My excuse, "Oh, Julian, I'm so sorry, but I couldn't wear that during practice! It was reflecting the light in my eyes..." No, it didn't make any sense, but Julian didn't have to know that. "No, no, not at all."  
By the end of the day, I could block overhead, side hand, and undercut swipes with the sword. It wasn't easy, and I was sweating in the summer heat, but I got it, after a little work. By the time we were done, not only were we good friends, but it was also time for dinner.  
Dinner was nothing special. A few more people were there, no new apprentices though. Afterward, I returned to my rooms, after making a quick pit stop in the library, and read in my bed until the sunlight died, which, it being summer, was quite late. Then, tired after a day of training, I gratefully snuggled into the bed, and fell asleep.

* * *

The next day, Sarah and I switched lessons. Instead of doing lessons with Halt and Justin, I did lessons with Will, which was geography. It was quite difficult for me, because in class we'd never examined the geography of England, which is the equivalent of Araluen, as far as I can tell. Trying to remember where this river was and where this city was and how much land was taken up by this forest. Geography is not my strong point, it never has been, but this was inordinately difficult because I'd never seen the land before in my life. But, by the end of the day, I was in fact able to figure out where the biggest cities were, and about how long it would take to get there for the average horseman and man on foot to get to them. It wasn't what you might call exciting, but it was necessary, or at least that's what Will said.  
When we went to dinner that night, everyone was there. There were three more apprentices, making five apprentices not counting us, and of course, fifty Rangers. Everyone seemed suspended between mourning and happiness, mourning for reasons I don't need to explain, but happy because we were all together, and we need not mourn alone. There was chatter around the table, of the same mood, with reports of what was going on in their respective fifes, and sound of friends catching up after a long time apart. For Sarah and I, at least, it was fairly uneventful; we chatted with the other apprentices, but couldn't talk about much of the same things as we hadn't been here long enough. But, when it came to the part of idle chatter, we were as good as the next guy.  
As the meal was nearing it's end, there was a knock on the door of the dining room, and everyone turned. A small, butler like man stepped through, and cleared his throat nervously. "Now that you are all here," he began, "Sir Thomas would like to see you tomorrow morning at ten. That is all." Then he stepped back out into the corridor once again.  
There was a silence, before Gilan stood and said, "Well then. I suppose we should all get a good night's rest." before exiting the room.  
Soon afterward, I was back in my room, laid out on my bed, reading. Ask any of my friends, and they would say, "Big surprise." Hey, I like to read. Some girls said that was nerdy and weird, but look where it had gotten me! Ha ha! Take that stupid popular girls!  
I was in the middle of some ancient battle, as this book turned out to be a historical non-fiction narrative book, when there was a soft knock on my door. Without looking up, as I sometimes do, I called, "Come in."  
I heard the creak of the door and the soft thunk as it swung back into place. I looked up and, to my surprise, saw Halt, standing by the far wall. I placed my book down, slipping a scrap of paper in as a bookmark ("Big surprise") and sat up. Seeing my questioning look, Halt moved over to the bed as I swung my legs over the edge so I could actually sit like I was in a chair. He motioned for me to stand, and I did.  
"I figured that, as we'll be seeing the stand-in king tomorrow, this would be as good a time as any to do this." He said without prologue. He reached inside his cloak as he continued. "Even though you have lost your memory, you have in fact been my apprentice for a year. And that means that you can have this." With his last word, he pulled out a small chain, which held a small oval pendant with the oakleaf insignia ebossed on it. "The symbol that a ranger wears. Copper-"  
"For an apprentice, silver for a Ranger." I finished his sentence, transfixed by the glinting metal piece. Even though I myself hadn't been with them a year, I still felt proud and accomplished to be getting this symbolic piece. And it was shiny, and therefore I was halfway zoned out on it. (Little side note on this - I've never actually been diagnosed with ADD, and neither has Sarah, although we both have some of the symptoms. I pay attention in class well, but when I'm speaking I'll break off in the middle of a sentence to point out something else. Sarah is the opposite. I also tend to zone out sometimes, and when I do, I usually stare at something, typically things that move or are shiny.) But I wasn't zoned for long.  
"How did you know that?" Halt asked suspiciously, "Who've you been talking too?"  
"Ahm..." I said, unsure how to explain this, "I.. just observed that all the apprentices had copper ones. Sometimes you can see then under their cloaks, especially when their doing combat practice." I thought about making an allusion to Sherlock, but refrained, realizing that there was no chance of him understanding it.  
Halt looked at me skeptically, but said nothing about it. "Alright. Here you are." In an oddly ceremonial way for Halt, he lowered the chain into my hand, then closed my fingers around it. "Goodnight." Then, without further comment, he left.  
I sat back down on the bed, and in the last of the sunlight examined my new possession. It was smaller than I had imagined, only perhaps one by one, in a elliptical shape. In the sunlight, it was the color of fire. I slipped it gently over my head, feeling the cold metal rest against my neck. Then, tucking it gently inside of my shirt, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before turning back to my book. After all of that, it wasn't nearly as exciting.

* * *

"Kathryn! Kathryn wake up!" I felt hands shaking me to wakefulness. I jerked up, eyes instantly snapping open, completely awake. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, there were no enemies charging at me from the corner. There was just Julian, looking very, very excited standing over my bed.  
"Come on! Get up! We need to get you ready!" She said. She veritably yanked me from the bed onto my feet. "Alright, I'll get you a bath ready, and while you're doing that I can get everything else ready,"  
One thing I can say about the girl: Julian is good to her word. After an aromatic bath filled with strongly scented salts, I was whisked back to my room, where Julian quickly yanked the tangles from my hair before very carefully positioning it, making one of those buns that look like puffy flowers on the back of your head, before pinning it with a beautiful emerald circle pin. Then, as my hair dried, she helped me into the dress. It was quite beautiful, as it was dark emerald green, with gold embroidered patterns on it, and the sleeves cut at the mid upper arm, and skirts that just brushed the floor. But, I really don't do dresses, and it was most uncomfortable. Guys don't have to go through this, but girls? Oh yes. Of course we do. Despite all Julian's fuss about it, I hid my knives in my boots by tucking their tips in and using small strips of cloth to bind them to my calves.  
After that, she placed the necklace around my neck. It was a simple pendulum necklace, a green jewel set in a silver circle, that was like a choker around my neck. Then, of course, came the makeup. A hearty amount of blush, and then green eyeliner. Deep cherry lipstick, with that mascara stuff again. And then, to top it all off, she sprinkled some tiny green sparkles in my hair. I didn't eve know that those were _invented_ yet. Joy. Luckily, I at least got to wear my own shoes, because no one would be able to see them under the long skirt. Thank heavens! If I'd had to wear high heels, I swear I would have killed myself right there and then. All my other clothes and possessions were then packed away into my bag again, and a servant took it away to tie it to Tiron's saddle, as we were leaving to go back home as soon as the meeting was over. I objected to having someone else do this, as I was very close to Tiron, and I could just tell he'd be offended, but by that time, it was time to get to Sir Thomas, so I had no choice.  
Again, we picked up Sarah on the way (sky blue dress, blue eyeliner, blush, lipstick, sapphire ring, hair bound up with a silver chain into Princess Laya style buns.) except this time were whisked past the dining hall and in front of the throne room doors. Again, there was general astonishment at our dress, but instead of just Halt and Will this time, it was everyone. But I digress. We waited for a little while while Sir Thomas got ready, then the butler guy came in and told us that we could enter. The big oak doors were pulled open and we stepped through into the throne room.  
The room was admittedly impressive. The high vaulted ceilings were held up by arches of polished wood, perhaps cherry by their slightly rose-ish color. There were chandeliers with real candles in them, although there were none currently lit. The large stained-glass windows depicted various parts of Araluen - deep forest, a waterfall, etc. - and made huge colored patterns on the floor. At the far end of the room, there was a small step, and then the throne, made also of the rose colored wood. And, sitting in it, was a young man, of perhaps Will's age, with curly light brown hair, a clear shaven face, and sparkling blue eyes. They were so blue in fact, to be almost startling, like ice. I actually took an involuntary step back as I saw his eyes, before quickly recovering and proceeding forward, halfway hiding behind the older Rangers. Of course, this didn't last for long, as the people in the front fanned out so that we were in a line, and this made me and Sarah, having been camping out at the back of the line, dead center in front of the man. For a moment he just examined us, looking us up and down (he did a double take on Sarah and I). Then, with a smile, he stood and stepped down in front of us.  
"Greeting, Rangers." he said. "I see you have all come out, despite whatever other obligations you may have had. I am grateful to you." His voice was a soothing tenor, and it seemed to keep your attention, like Morgan Freeman's voice keeps your attention. "I have brought you here for a very important reason, one that affects you all. But first, I would like to formally invite you to the burial ceremony of our dear departed King. It will be tomorrow at noon, if you would like to attend." A general murmur of gratitude and assent came from the Rangers, and Sir Thomas, as this undoubtedly was he, smiled again. "Good. I though you might like to come. Now, on to our next matter of business." The smile faded from his face, replaced by a very serious expression. "As you know, your craft was created to defend the kingdom and it's residents, by finding secret information, being the masters of your art, and helping us in times of war or other hardship. But, as can be seen, this could not help my dear Uncle, who was murdered in his own home."  
All the Rangers, even me, looked at each other. Where was he going with this?  
"So, as a matter of efficiency, I have decided to disband the Ranger Corp."  
There was a moment of dead silence, before the flood of comments came roaring uninvited from the gathered men (me and Sarah just stood and looked shocked).  
"You're crazy!"  
"You think this is our fault?!"  
"The country will fall into chaos!"  
"This is ludicrous!"  
"SILENCE!" Thomas yelled over them, and after a few moments, the hubbub died down. "Now, as acting King and ruler I expect you to follow my commands." He gave us a serious look. "Or there will be dire consequences."  
"I don't recall swearing any oaths to you!" Halt exclaimed disgustedly. "And there is no way you will be able to rule this country when it's fundamental forces are disbanded! What next, shall you disband our army too?!"  
"You're not king!" I turned with surprise, as it was Sarah who had spoken. "Horace is King!"  
Sir Thomas gave her a small little smile. "Oh yes?" He stood, stepping towards her until he was only inches away, forcing her to take an uncomfortable step back. Then, in a very low, sinister voice, said in just above a whisper.  
_"Him and what army?"_  
Then he let out a piercing whistle, and the doors behind Thomas (that I think led to the King's private chambers) burst open as men swarmed into the room. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this." Thomas said sadly, though he had to raise his voice to be heard over pounding footsteps, "But there's simply nothing to be done." Then he turned to his guards, and, pointing, said with none of his previous regret, "Take them into custody."  
And that was when all hell broke loose.  
The men charged at us, and together we raised our weapons. Well, not together exactly. In the terror of the moment, Sarah and I jumped behind the other Rangers, sort of as a barrier. Embarrassing but true. Not that it did very much. Within a few moments, our line was breached, and Sarah and I were thrown into the fray anyways.  
I don't really know how Sarah did in the fight, as we were almost instantly separated. I know I last saw her as I desperately flung my arms up, locking my by now retrieved knives in place as a long, curved sword arced down at my head. With a clang, it locked into place. I tried to twist it out of his grip from there, but the man was strong, and I was unable to. From there, it was a wrestling match, a contest of who would give in first, me or him. It was abruptly ended when another sword, this one straight, slammed sideways into my opponent's weapon. It shattered, tiny shards of metal slamming everywhere as the sword snapped in two. Gillan. Where would I be without Gillan.  
I turned to find the others, when there was a call from the center of the fighting. "There's to many of them! Run!"  
And I had no trouble with that command at all. I was near the far end of the fighting, so I just had to duck one or two swinging blades before I could just sprint for freedom.  
But, as you might recall, I was wearing a dress. Damn.  
I tripped and fell as my skirt tangled in my feet. Cursing, I took the knives which were still in my hands, and cut the skirt off to the knee, saying "Sorry Julian.", before getting up again and sprinting off into the corridor.  
I heard pounding feet and yelling in a different language from behind me as I ran. Thank goodness I wasn't wearing high heels. I'd undoubtedly would have been captured or killed. See? Not being fashionable saved my life. I always knew it was a good choice.  
I ran madly around, darting down hallways as they appeared, trying to wind as wildly as possible while still getting further away. I stumbled a couple times, and I knew that even if I hadn't, the men were still gaining on me. The only thing I had on them was agility; they were all bulky, lumbering men with a lot of momentum, and therefore didn't corner very well. I took as many turns as I could, but it turned out to be my down fall. In a very literal sense. As I wound around another corner, I found myself at a dead end. I tried to get back around the corner, but my opponents were already there, blue war paint and all. I skidded to a stop, turning on a dime and dashing for the nearest door, swinging in, and slamming the door as fast as I could, before I planned to bolt it and find a way out. But of course, that was too simple. Before I could shut the door all the way, there was a foot jammed into the frame, and I yelped and skittered away. The door was slammed open, and I found myself cornered against the window on the far side of the room. I took a few steps forward, ready to fight, but there were so many. The first man through ran up and swung a right hook towards my face. I blocked, but before I could do much of anything, there was a foot in my ribs, a foot swiping mine out from under me, and the first man was throwing another punch at me. It crashed into my temple, and I blacked out for a few seconds, before I felt another hand lifting me by the neck. No, scratch that; by the necklace. I gasped, as the thin chain was cutting off my air with surprising effectiveness. Like that wasn't planned, I though bitterly, as I clawed at my attacker's hand. And I though Julian had been nice. I looked up to meet my opponent's eyes, and was stunned by the fact that it was the man who had come to get us that stormy night what seemed like forever ago.  
"Remember me, pet?" he asked with mock concern. His hand was twisted in the chain, that was how he was choking me. I lashed feebly at him, but air depletion was already making me weak, and black dots swam before my eyes. "Feisty are we?" he slammed me back against the wall, causing me to see nothing for a moment. In desperation, I thought of a crazy, completely insane idea, and decided it was my only hope.  
I lashed at the man again, even weaker this time. Just as I expected, he slammed me against the wall again. Except this time I added a little twist, in the literal sense of the word. I twisted my body as much as I could to one side, so instead of slamming me into the wall, he slammed me into the stained glass window. It shattered, and I went flying out into thin air. The chain might have been strong enough to choke me, but it wasn't enough to hold my body weight, so instead of snapping my neck, like a noose, I snapped the necklace and went flipping out into an unstoppable plummet.  
Now I know what you're thinking. You committed suicide instead of getting captured? But that's not quite how it was. From the day we came in, I had a vague memory of a moat. I was putting faith in that and hoped that it wasn't just my imagination, and that I wasn't going to go splat on the ground. And, as it turned out, it was just as I hoped. I smacked into the water on my side, causing a shock of pain to run up my entire body, but in relation to the situation I had been in only moments before, it was like a pat on the back. Pushing myself up to the surface, I shook my now very messy hair out of my face and started stroking towards the far shore with all my might. I heard yells behind me, and a couple splashes, and picked up the pace, my air deprived lungs crying out for more than I gave them. When I reached the edge of the moat, there was a bit of a climb, but luckily years of weather and erosion had made some nice little hand and foot holds for me to climb up with. Then, still gasping painfully, I sprinted full speed towards the stables, or where I remembered them to be.  
I was surprised to be the first one to think of this, but when I ran in it seemed I was the only one there. I dashed through stalls, at first looking for Tiron, before giving up and just whistling at the top of my lungs, the special series of notes that only Tiron responded to. I followed the preceding whinny, and bolted into the stall. Never in my life have I been more relieved to see a horse saddled and ready to go. I swung up onto his back, and, giving him a good kick that meant full gallop. I pulled on the reigns in a way that I had would spin him around and face out of the stables. Tiron, on the other hand, had other ideas. Instead of whirling and running, he reared, making me grip his mane for dear life, and kicked the boards of the stall out with his front hooves before galloping at full speed forward. I crouched close over his back, knowing that the men who had jumped in after me would be coming in a matter of seconds, even if they did choose a ranger horse first. If I could make things go even the tiniest bit faster, it would be better.  
We galloped around the edge of the castle, aiming for the forest perhaps a mile away as castle Araluen had the drawbridge down, when I saw her. Sarah was sprinting away from a couple men, dashing towards Castle Araluen's town. I turned slightly, aiming towards her instead. I would have fired a shot or two at the men with the bow I had freed from my saddle, except that on horseback, I would have been as likely to hit Sarah as the men, and I decided it wasn't worth the risk. I urged Tiron to go faster, and to my astonishment, he did. I didn't know a horse could hit thirty five. Well, ya learn something new every day.  
I gained on the group, getting closer, closer... now! I yelled, "Sarah! Pick me up!" It was a code from a camp we'd gone to once. She half turned, still running, but keeping her eyes on me. Then, when I was close enough, she stopped, I arced around her pursuers, and stormed straight towards her. I stretched out my arm, and she grabbed it as I passed. From there she swung up and landed behind me on the saddle. "Ya! Ya!" I yelled, and Tiron somehow found a burst of speed to get us out of reach of the mens' weapons. Then, we were in the town.  
Now, it's not an everyday occurrence for a horse to go careening down the street of any town, but one with two women who were dressed in bedraggled finery (Sarah too had removed some of her skirt's length.) with multiple cuts on them was just unheard of. People were screaming, running, charging, attacking, retreating, doing everything but helping us. The longer we were trapped in this town, the closer those men got.  
"EVERYONE OUT OF THE WAY!" Sarah bellowed. Sarah is a loud person when she wants to be, but this was a new level of loud that I had never heard reached by anyone. "THE PALACE HAS BEEN COMPROMISED, AND WE ARE UNDER ATTACK! NOW GET _OUT OF THE WAY_!"  
This did a remarkably good job at opening a path of flight for us. We shot down the little alley, and anyone who didn't hear were more or less run over, although Tiron did his best to jump over them. We exited the town, streaming down the dirt road, before leaving the path and entering the thick forest. I gave the foot signal to Tiron that said "You choose the best path." He did so, and I let go of the reigns, gripping instead his mane, as Sarah gripped my waist to prevent herself from being thrown off as we wove between the trees. We moved at surprising speed for a forest ride, and we passed an amazing variety of things; roads, rivers, fallen tress, a startled group of gypsies. But eventually, we got deep enough into the forest that we no longer saw any signs of civilization. I reigned in, and Tiron came to a staggering halt, sides heaving.  
I slid from the saddle, knees coming close to buckling as I landed on the ground. Sarah plopped down beside me, looking equally exhausted. She had a long, if not too deep, gash running down her leg, which was clearly visible from her short cut skirt.  
First thing I did: Said a few words about our pursuers that, had my grandparents heard, would have gotten my mouth washed out with the world's supply of soap.  
Second thing I did: Burst out laughing at how ridiculous we looked. Our dresses were tattered and torn, coated in dirt and blood and debris. Our hair was a bedraggled mess, knotted in many odd ways. We had makeup running down our faces, a wild look of terror still lingering in our eyes, and a note of hysteria in our voices. It was laugh or cry, and honestly, at that moment, laughing was less taxing.  
After sobering up a little, we started doing some slightly more rational things. We started by helping each other with our injuries; I helped Sarah bind up that cut on her leg with strips of my ruined skirt, and Sarah examined my neck, which had a pretty nice gash left in it by that chain. Apparently, not only had the chain been engineered to cut off breathing easily, but it was also sharp as a dagger. Despite Sarah's aversion to blood, she managed to clean it out with a bit of water from her bottle, and then lightly wrap a strip of cloth around it. We also had some minor cuts and abrasions, but those were easily dealt with. Still nursing our injuries, we set about loosening Tiron's girth strap and the likes, because although we needed a quick getaway just in case, we didn't want him to be uncomfortable either. "You did a good job," I told him, whispering in his ear. "If I had any oats, I'd give you some." He nickered softly and shook his head before lowering it to munch some of the tender foliage about us.  
I turned back and was surprised to see normally cheery Sarah looking glum, sitting on the ground. She met my questioning glance, sighed, then said, "They've got Correr."  
I frowned, sitting beside her. "You think he'd let them do anything bad with him? If anything he'll come find you." I gave her an encouraging nudge. "C'mon, let's get a fire started if nothing else. I've got some ingredients for stew in my pack, if we can just get a fire and some water."  
She nodded unhappily, but did as I said. Before long, we had a nice little dinner in some small wooden bowls, and were slurping it solemnly. When we finished, we didn't bother to clean our dishes, but instead pulled a blanket out from Tiron's bag and laid it out on the ground. Our tents hadn't accompanied us on what we had assumed would be a short trip, so Sarah and I were left to wrapping ourselves in our cloaks. We laid down by Tiron, hoping that if anyone sinister came our way, they would be spotted by Tiron, who would wake us. Trusting in our guardian, we forced ourselves to relax, and, after what seemed like ages, feel asleep.

* * *

**So I apologise if any of that seemed rushed, disconnected, etc. I was reading it, and was like "Well, this is disconjointed... oh well, it's too long as is." So I hope it's not terrible, but no guarantees.**


	10. Chapter 10: Save You

**A/N: Okay, I don't really like this chapter that much, but it's kind of important. So, yeah. That's really all I have to say. Hope Halt and Will aren't too OOC in this one.**

**Farmer's Daugther: See last chapter, I changed your message.**

* * *

I woke to a scream. As you might expect, this got bright-eyed and bushy-tailed pretty quick.  
Sarah, of course, was still out cold.  
I leaped to my feet, whirling in a tight circle to seek the source of the loud noise. There it was. A girl, about our age, with a simple brown dress, a work dress, and a light cloak to prevent a sunburn, holding a basket filled with edible forest mushrooms, looking absolutely terrified. The girl, not the mushrooms. I reached out a hand. "Hey, it's ok-"  
The girl screamed again, turned on a dime, and ran away. Getting the feeling that there was more to this than was on the surface, I took off after her. I didn't realize how much better I was at sprinting until then, as I caught her in only a few seconds. I grabbed her forearm while stopping dead, and like a ship with an abruptly dropped anchor, she swung all the way around. She yelled and tried to pull out, but compared to my newly strong arms and hands, she was pretty weak. "Help! Help!" She screamed, before I whipped her about so I had her arm twisted behind her back, and the wrapped my hand around her mouth.  
"Shhhhh." I said. "I'm not going to hurt you. But right now, I'm in a lot of danger and you might give away our position, so I can't let you yell. Now, I'm gonna let go of your mouth, and you're not gonna scream, right?"  
The girl seemed to consider, then nodded slowly.  
"Okay..." I slowly removed my hand, and was ready to flinch back at any moment, but the girl made not a sound. "What are you doing out here?" I asked.  
"I-I-I'm getting m-mushrooms for my mum." she lifted the basket, which was miraculously still full. She turned as she spoke, and I almost yelped with astonishment. It was Shayna. Shayna is the third of our three musketeers, and so had no reason to be running from us. Well, she didn't have a reason to say 'mum' either, but whatever. "Why are you all out here?"  
"All two of us, you mean?" I ask slowly, wondering if this Shanya who clearly was not actually Shayna was slow-witted.  
"No, there are those other two over there, and -"  
"What other two?" I cut in sharply.  
"Two men over there, wearing the same stuff as you. They seemed to be looking for something."  
"Oh, thank you Shayna." I said, relieved, and giving the girl a hug. She stiffened. "Oh, you probably have no idea what I'm talking about, that's probably not even your name, but just to let you know, you've just been the most helpful person on earth. Now, run along." The girl did as instructed, very quickly. Then, deciding that trying to wake Sarah would be futile, I ran at top speed in the direction the girl had pointed, tearing through the underbrush. Then, realizing that I could make something out of this, I slowed to a walk, moving quietly over the padded forest floor. This portion of the forest was mainly pine trees, so there was a ton of pine needles padding my steps. I made almost no sound as I slid forward, ears pricked for any sound. Then, I heard them, very quiet voices.  
"Where could they have gone?"  
"It's odd that we can't find any sign of them. That girl that ran away seemed to indicate that there weren't very many people in these woods, so they should be easy to find."  
I froze, willing my cloak to hide me. Then, there was the soft sound of hooves. Edging forward, I got closer to where I predicted the pair would emerge. There they were, just a flash of color. I prepared to step out inform them that I had snuck up on them, when I heard a familiar deep thrum, and I felt a tug on my sleeve. I yelped as the tug became a yank and I was jerked back into a tree a few inches behind me. I tried to pull away but found that my sleeve was stuck to the tree. I looked over incredulously, and found an arrow going through my sleeve and into the tree. I yanked at it, but in my position I didn't have enough leverage to pull it out. "What the hell?!" I called, annoyed that they'd shot at me. As if my tattered dress needed more tattering.  
"Katie?" There was the sound of a pair a trotting horses, and then through the undergrowth appeared Halt and Will, on Tug and Abelard.  
"No, her identical twin!" I said sarcastically, and pulled again at the arrow. "Now if you don't mind!"  
Halt dismounted and pulled the arrow from the tree with seeming ease. "Sorry about that."  
"I should think so." I said, rubbing my upper arm.  
"Hey." Halt said, pointing the arrow tip at my nose, "Don't sass the one who's got the arrow."  
Will, who was still mounted on Tug, offered me a hand, and I pulled myself (or more realistically, Will pulled me) up into the saddle behind him. "Now where's Sal?" suddenly a flash of fright passed across his eyes. "You do know where she is, right?" It seems curious to me that, in his brief moment of fright, he had forgotten our 'new' names. Just this once, I let it pass, because I have other things to snark about.  
"No, I just left Tiron, who you must have seen was gone, back at my camp so that I could search for her on foot." I reply, still ticked off at being shot at.  
Will scowled at me in response, but just said, "Lead on."  
When we got back, Sarah was still asleep, and Tiron was standing almost right over her, his neck reaching up to snag the leaves of a low hanging tree branch. Lowering his head back down, he nickered softly in greeting, which Tug and Abelard returned. I swear, Tug and Abelard are like Tiron and Correr's mentors; I've often seen them doing something together, and then seen the two older horses seem to correct something in the younger horses stride, or posture, or whatever. It's kind of funny, actually.  
Anyways. Sarah was asleep. And Halt didn't seem inclined to wait around for her to wake up. He swung down, walked over to Sarah, and dumped the contents of his canteen on her head. Spluttering, Sarah sat bolt upright, muttering curses under her breath. "What the hell was that?!" Sarah demanded, standing and brushing herself off.  
"That was your wake up call." Halt said flatly. "Now get on Tiron and let's go."  
"Waitwaitwait." I said, standing between him and Abelard. "Please explain to me why I have to walk if it's my horse."  
"You don't. You're going to double, today, and then me and Will will double up the next days, etc."  
Sarah looked mortified. "But Correr!"  
"Correr is, if he hasn't arrived by now, never going to."  
Sarah stared for a moment longer, then turned quickly and walked over to Tiron. "You get on first." she said, her voice tight. Her head was bowed.  
I mounted, frowning. _Halt could have been slightly more tactful with that_, I thought. Sarah mounted behind me, and Halt took the lead in a slow canter. Tiron snorted unhappily, but followed, shaking his mane. His movements were heavier than usual, made unsteady from the weight of an extra person. Will brought up the rear, Tug having to take more strides, being the smallest of them all, but seeming to use the least total effort. Figures.  
I felt Sarah's arms shaking slightly as she gripped my midsection for stability. Amidst my posting, and steering, and keeping my eyes on Halt's back, I managed to reach over and pat her hand sympathetically. Despite the fact that we must have been here no more than two months, tops, we had both become very attached to our horses. I could only imagine what Sarah was going through, losing Correr. Not just outright sobbing was probably better than I would have been doing, were the situation reversed.  
For a while we rode, stopping only once for Sarah and I to change back into ranger gear as we started to chafe, before I realized something. "Halt?" I said. He sighed, but motioned for me to continue. "What's so important that we are riding the whole time, instead of only riding some of the time and going forced march the rest?"  
"Well, for one thing, neither of you could keep up a forced march pace for very long, and for another, getting out of the country is our first priority at this point."  
"Getting out of the country?" Sarah's voice didn't even crack. I was impressed.  
"Yes. In case you hadn't noticed, Sir Thomas didn't seem to like us very much. And the fact that we got away means he wants us back, so we don't have time to amass an army of our own before his scouts find us and kill us. If we can keep this pace, we'll be at the sea by noon tomorrow, and we can hire a boat and be out so we can meet the rest of the corp."  
"Meet?" Will said, looking very confused. "Meet where?"  
Halt sighed. "At Mt. Norovanaya, in the Dural Mountains. It's part of the Eastern Steppes. And, before you can ask," Halt hurried on, foreseeing Will's question, "You weren't told because you aren't told until you have been a full member of the corp for ten years, and you haven't yet. This emergency, however, has made an exception to that rule."  
Dural Mountains. All these places were connected with somewhere real. Europe unit in Social Studies, come on... Dural, Bural, Rural, what else could go in front of ural...! Ural! That was it! The Ural mountains! But... that was all the way across Europe. Then again, the maps of Araluen and everything else were kind of squished... but _still_! That's a long way! And Mt. Norovanaya... no clue. Just a vague name to me. Could have been in Idaho for all I knew. But I did know this. It was gonna be a _looonnngggg_ way. Long, long, long...  
THUD! A double-sided axe came sailing through the air, slamming into the ground in front of Abelard. Whinnying with surprise, Abelard reared, hooves flailing at the air, and taking odd, half hopping steps backward, still upright. Halt clung to the saddle horn, eyes searching for our assailant despite his precarious perch. Then, as Abelard dropped back down, Halt was already shooting off an arrow, sending it wising into the trees. Tiron was now mere inches behind Abelard, and Tug, who was going to fast, actually skidded into Tiron, shoving him into Abelard, who stumbled forward. It probably saved Halt's life. Two daggers sailed glinting through the air, slicing through where he had been seconds before.  
Instantly, Halt and Will were shooting off round after round of arrows, as Sarah and I scrambled to try and extricate our weapons. Sarah grabbed the knives out of my sheaths, while I pulled my bow off from around my saddle where it had been stored . Poor Sarah. Didn't have her weapons, as well as not having her horse. We tried to make ourselves as compact as possible as we did this, to make ourselves as small of target as possible. There, just a tiny movement, but enough. I pulled out my arrow, drew, and fired. Not nearly as fast as Halt and Will, but at least it found it's mark. A whinny rose from the woods, and a horse charged from the forest. A man was dragged along behind, one foot caught in the stirrups. I nocked another arrow.  
Abruptly, Tiron reared, throwing Sarah and I onto the ground. Then, an all too human scream came from above me as Tiron whipped his head about, frantically trying to dislodge the arrow now embedded in his neck as he reared a second time. I knew he knew better, whipping around might make things worse, but sometimes, even ranger horses are overcome by pain and fear. Or maybe, I thought, as another arrow sliced his flank, not even close to us, he was trying to be a diversion.  
Terrified as I was for Tiron, we had other problems. Every perhaps ten seconds, a couple arrows would soar through the air. Luckily, they weren't very good shots. Along with that,perhaps twenty five men had stepped from the trees, axes, swords, and maces held high. For a moment, they just stood, sizing us up. That was, however, until three of them were felled by black and gray shafted arrows in a couple instants. At that point, they decided to get on with it.  
A swordsman started towards me. (It was at this point I lost track of Sarah.) I scrambled to my feet, shooting off the arrow I had on the string. It missed by a mile, my fear causing me to lose some of my technique and allow the arrow to veer violently to the right. The man was coming none to slowly, and I knew I wouldn't have enough time to fire off anything more, but I tried anyways. Shaking hands fumbled with the bowstring as the warrior raised his blade. At the last instant, I raised my bow over my head, thinking that, perhaps, but some miracle, the blade would get stuck in it.  
A lancing pain shot through my leg, and I collapsed with a cry. The swipe that would have taken off my head went sailing harmlessly above me, and, somehow seeing my chance through the haze of pain, I shot off the arrow that I now had ready. The close range saved my life; even a mere three feet away I missed the center of his torso and hit his shoulder. To my joy, however, the short range combined with the location severed important muscles to move his arm, muscles he needed to lift that sword of his. With a yell of pain, he dropped his sword and staggered back, glaring at me and then at the others. Then, apparently deciding there was nothing for it, he retreated hastily to the trees.  
Then the pain really registered. An arrow was now embedded into my thigh, only to the base of the head, but it was terribly painful and, depending on what had been hit, potentially deadly. I let out a screech of pain, and clenched my teeth. There were men approaching, I could see them, but even with just the slightest movement it became apparent that my leg would not be holding my weight. Frightened, I struggled to think through the haze of pain, trying to drag myself towards some sort of cover or weapon. I was too slow, though, I could tell. It was with a mix of relief and fear that I watched Tiron charge between me and my pursuers, boldly becoming my blockade. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered that the red blood that was in stark contrast to his dark hide seemed to be an awful lot, but what was I to do?  
There were three men approaching now - two swordsman and an axe man. They approached Tiron, looking confident. Tiron grumbled warningly, daring them to cross him. Unfortunately, they were all to willing to oblige. As one of the swordsmen lunged at him, blade outstretched, Tiron skipped nimbly to the side, before lunging forwards himself and knocking the man to the ground. With a ferocity I had never seen before, he landed a brutal kick to the man's head, and he fell still. The second swordsman approached more cautiously, learning from his fallen comrade. When he attacked, it was a side swipe at close range, not as easy to avoid. To my astonishment, Tiron blocked the blade with his mouth, intelligent enough to understand that the metal bit would protect his sensitive flesh. Then, with a jerk he wrenched the blade away, a victorious look in his eyes. The swordsman stumbled back, startled, before an arrow impaled him in the chest and he dropped. Now all that was left was the axe man. And that was the problem. The axe man was undoubtedly as fast as the swordsmen, despite the weight of his weapon, or he wouldn't be here. And the size of his muscles suggested that he would have no trouble wielding that beast of a blade. And, because the axe was a heavier weapon, Tiron would have absolutely no defense. I fumbled at my belt for a knife, before remembering that Sarah had taken them. Cursing, I watched helplessly as the scene unfolded before me.

The two opponents stood absolutely still for a moment, and I saw the axe man's eyes flick around Tiron to me, his original target. I felt my breath catch as a shock of fear ran down my spine. I was completely and utterly defenceless. The axe man began to circle around Tiron, but the horse stepped in the way, bravely covering me. The axe man, exasperated raised the large weapon effortlessly, and Tiron, though he undoubtedly knew that it would only make things worse, reared up on his hind legs, front legs kicking in front of him as if to make sure the axe man wouldn't come any closer. I turned my face away, waiting for the crunch that was sure to follow.

But it didn't come. I looked up to see the body of the man lying awkwardly on the ground, apparently trampled by the horse who had just pounded by. There were no more warriors, just the eight creatures standing in the clearing, and the sound of retreating footsteps in the forest. Tiron, falling back onto all fours, stood shaking for a moment, copious amounts of blood welling from the deep piercing arrows. Then, slowly, he lowered himself onto his knees, and then lay down, his flanks rising and falling heavily.

The absence of the battle seemed to throw everything into sharp relief. The heaving sides of my horse, red blood sharp against black hair. The intense pain in my leg, the warmth of the blood running across my skin. The way that the others in the clearing looked around, as if they couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened. Pain and fright and shock and sadness all washed over me at once, and, despite how much I didn't want to, I broke down completely and sobbed, hiding my face in the crook of my arm so I wouldn't have to face the world. My sobs shook my body, making my leg burn with pain, which made me cry more - it was quite the vicious cycle, really. But even so, I was still awfully aware of Tiron, lying just beyond my reach. Despite the agony it caused, I used my arms to push myself close enough to touch Tiron, just a little bit, with my fingertips. "It's gonna be okay," I told him, stroking him over the space of just the couple inches I could reach, "It's gonna be fine, I promise." Empty words, meant to be as convincing to me as they were to be comforting to him. I didn't know anything about what was about to happen, for all I knew nothing was going to be fine. In fact, as far as I could tell, Tiron was... was.. _dying._  
At some point, Will knelt beside me, sitting me up and wrapping one gentle arm around my shoulders, squeezing me lightly. I didn't respond, just remained sitting beside my friend, not allowing myself to be distracted from these last few moments with him. It was only when Tiron screamed once more, filled with pain, did Will gently pull me away, careful not to disturb my leg. I turned as best I could and buried my face instead in Will's clothes, my sobs now muffled. Will now wrapped both arms about me, rubbing my back, just like my dad used to when I was little. Another scream, and I heard Will catch his breath. Then, he hushed me gently, turning my head back when I tried to look at Tiron. There was a long moment where I could only hear my own sobbing and breathing, before I felt a gentle hand on my good leg. "Let's get you fixed up." It was Halt, for once not being sarcastic. He cut away the pant leg by the arrow, carefully removing it without touching the wound or the weapon. He planted his hand in a L shape around the arrow and, without any warning of any kind, wrenched the arrow from my flesh. I screamed myself now, fists clenching in Will's cloak. Teeth gritted, I grabbed toward my leg protectively, but Will caught my hands. "Worst's over now." he whispered to me, brushing a tear from my cheek. I nodded and brought my hands back to my chest, nails biting into my palms. "Just a few stitches."  
In comparison to the arrow coming out, the stitches were like pinches. Six stitches, closing up the inch long puncture, and heaven knows how deep. Then, a very tight bandage wrap, trying to stop the bleeding, soaked in a disinfectant sort of thing. It stung like nothing in this world, but I suppose it was better than getting it infected. It was _really_ tight, and I already felt the circulation being cut off.  
"I'm - I'm not gonna - gonna be able t- stand, am I?" I got out, words cut off by sniffles and stifled moans.  
"You will. Just not right away." Halt replied softly. "At least not without help." Still facing away from the road, he slid an arm beneath mine, guiding my arm around his neck. Then, slowly, he pulled me to my feet, supporting most of my weight at first, then letting me support my weight on my good leg, just being there to help me keep my balance. Will stood beside us, and together, I was eventually maneuvered so that a faced the scene of the battle.  
To my shock and delight, Tiron was still breathing, and all the arrows that had been piercing his side were gone. A very tight bandage was wrapped about his side (how Halt got that bandage under a lying down horse I will never know), and a bandage pad with a lighter wrap covered a piercing in his neck. Small pools of blood lay by his sides, but they didn't seem to be getting bigger. In between where I had laid and where Tiron was there were six arrows with bloodstained tips. All about the clearing there were men, some with arrows sticking from their chests, some of whom seemed to have died from other causes. Tan shafted arrows of the enemy lay scattered all across the clearing, some impaled in the dirt, some just laying there as if dropped. At the far end of the clearing, Sarah lay in the dirt, a hoof print swelling on her forehead. She was still breathing, and didn't appear to be injured, just unconscious. And above her, snuffling at her carefully, was Correr, undoubtedly Tiron and I's saviour. It had been he that took out the final axe man that would have finished Tiron. Nearby, Tug and Abelard stood, watching the entire scene carefully, not quite sure where to start.  
I frowned. There was something I wasn't noticing, something I should have been. Something important... Wait. The six arrows, the ones that had been in me and Tiron. Five of them were tan. But the third one, it was... black.  
I pulled away from Halt, grabbing Will's shoulder instead. "You shot me!" I exclaimed, anger and disbelief potent in my voice. "You - Shot - Me!"  
Will's eyebrows shot up, and he looked from me to Halt and back to me. "You - he- but-"  
"He shot me!" I repeated, so adamant that I lost my balance, and Will was just barely quick enough to catch me and help me stand again.

"I encourage you to think of the alternative." Halt said, coming to stand in front of me. When nothing registered, Halt rolled his eyes and pointed back towards the body strewn road. "Swordsman, remember?"  
Slowly, I realized what had happened, and with a shudder, nodded, all my anger drained now. "Okay." I whispered, nodding slowly to show my understanding.  
"Oi, what happened?" Sarah's slurred voice broke the silence. She staggered towards us, apparently not having seen Correr yet. The little horse crept behind her, moving silently, perhaps a foot of distance between the two. I smothered a grin.  
"Well, I just got eight stitches, and it looks like you got a helpful hoof in the head." I told her.  
"Are you...okay?"  
"Well, I did have a little help."  
Just as I had hoped, this was where Correr stepped up the pace a little, and nudged Sarah's arm. She whipped about, almost taking off her own horse's nose on accident. Then, she squealed in a very un-ranger like way and wrapped her arms tightly about Correr's neck. She buried her face in his hair, and although her words were muffled, I could tell she was saying how excited she was to have him back. In that was that only horses can, Correr turned his neck completely around, managing to double it over to nuzzle her while she was still on his neck. When she was finally done, she turned around and, clearing her throat with a bright red face, said, as casually as she could, "Now, what was this about stitches?"  
I gestured to my mostly bare leg. Her eyes widened, and she said, voice faint, "That's a lot of ... blood..." then her eyes rolled up in her head, and she collapsed into a dead faint. Will hurried over, ignoring Correr's nervous nickering.  
"She's fine." Will said. "Just ... afraid of... blood?" he said, hesitantly. Then more confidently, "The point is, she's fine."  
Correr tossed his head, gratefully it seemed. Then, he plodded slowly over to Tiron, who was still on his side, and blew softly through his nose, making that little noise horses do. Tiron virtually exploded, whinnying with excitement. He craned his neck carefully trying to catch a glimpse of his friend. When he did, another whinny came, and this time Correr responded, having a little horse conversation right there. Then, after a short moment of conversation between all of the horses, Tug, Abelard, and Correr all gathered about Tiron, slowly easing him on to his stomach instead of his side. The bandage around his neck looked ready to break, and I opened my mouth to say something, but Halt said softly, "It'll be fine." Then, with quite a bit of snorting, nickering, and, grunting, Tiron was eased to his feet. It was clear he was leaning heavily on the others, but distributed between three horses, the weight of one horse is nothing, especially if they're all ranger horses. I almost let out a cheer, seeing that Tiron was okay, but refrained. Slowly, each horse stopped supporting Tiron. He could stand on his own, although he did keep one foot, his back left, with less weight on it that the others.  
There was a long moment of stillness. Then, Halt said, almost to himself, "Well, clearly you can't ride Tiron, and you can't walk very fast, not like that..." his brow furrowed, and I could see he was deep in thought.  
"A wagon." I said, somewhat to my own surprise.  
"What?" Halt said, one eyebrow raised.  
"A wagon. We could hitch two of the horses alternately to the wagon, I could sit in the wagon, and it wouldn't slow us down as much as me not riding would. Tiron might not be able to pull, but the other three could, and by the time we both got better everything would be fine."  
"It would still slow us down."  
"So will everything else."  
Another long silence. Then, just a tiny nod of approval. "We'll just have to walk to the next town and buy one. And some harnesses. But you'll have to be our look out, be ready to shoot things. Better than you just did." He gave a pointed look to the bow I had left disused on the ground.  
My happy mood at having thought of a good idea fell. "Oh. Yeah. I guess I just... panicked."  
Halt swept me up without warning so that I was held in a fireman's carry. Though he was careful not to hurt my leg, I let out an indignant and startled squawk. "Well, don't panic next time." He said gruffly, before he began to tote me in a most undignified way down the road.

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**I 3 reviews!**


	11. Chapter 11:Everybody Hurts

**A/N: Okay, so, for the record, I kinda dislike this chapter too. It's necessary, sort of, but you know, I'd be willing to bet that you could skip right over it and not even miss that much. I was going through writer's block at the time, and so was just spitting out stuff. I mean, there's a little bit of charry development, and a little plot development, but as I said, not as necessary, and is kinda long. So, if you really want to, you can just skip right over this chapter and not miss much. But enough of me ranting about how bad this chapter is.**

**Tessi: Hi! Thanks for your review, I hope you continue to read!**

**Farmer's Daughter: Hey, glad you liked it! I tried really hard with Halt in that chapter, to keep him fatherly while still being Halt-y. So, yeah!**

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"So Halt." I said, sitting cross legged on the tiny wagon that was pulling me along, "How exactly are we going to reverse this full scale invasion that seems to be taking place? And why did King Duncan's knights decide to go through with this? I mean, clearly Thomas want's the Rangers gone, but there must more of a reason than that!"  
Halt sighed. "King Duncan's knights didn't go through with it. In fact, I'm not sure how many of them may still be alive. You missed some very key things. The blue war paint, for instance. Scotti. The curved swords. Scotti. Thomas is in league with the Scotti, who have been trying to invade for years."  
I digested this a moment. "You still didn't answer my first question. What are we going to do about it? Especially if the King's knights are dead."  
There was a long silence, filled only with the horses trotting hooves. (Unfortunately, the steady lope that Ranger horses normally use would be too tiring since they were pulling a wagon. I'm not even sure if they _could_ canter with a wagon...) Then, Halt turned in the saddle and looked me in the eye.  
"I don't know if we can do anything." he said softly. This was followed shortly by a sound of outrage from Will beside him.  
"Can't do anything?!" he exclaimed, "Nothing at all?!"  
"We're Rangers, Will. Not miracle workers." Halt didn't look too happy about it either.  
"Well, there's gotta be something we can do!" Sarah said indignantly. "Even just a little paper cut is something."  
"But at what cost?" Halt questioned. "The loss of men is not something to be taken lightly. All to unfortunately, Sir Thomas does not feel the same way."  
We fell back into an uncomfortable silence. Tiron trotted beside my wagon, his strides already looking better than before. Correr was on my other side, with Sarah on top, gripping my bow in one hand, and holding the reigns with the other, posting gracefully. Though we had to use English saddle here in Araluen, it had taken almost no time at all to teach the horses to neck reign (that is, reign with only one hand). My quiver was slung over her back.  
Okay, pause the story here. I feel now would be a good time to give a bit more of an explanation and description of our horses. The previous ones have been kind of vague.  
First, my horse, Tiron. I'd discovered that, like Tug, he was fond of giving you a good jerk on the arm, especially when he met people he didn't know. I mean, when I handed my horse over to the man at castle Araluen, I'm surprised that they got him into the stable. Man can he pull. Height wise, he was a tiny bit bigger than Tug, but still definitely a pony. Although, unlike most ponies, he didn't have what I call 'pony pudge', which means, in other words, that he had the figure of a horse, instead of the barrel shape of a pony. His withers were about at the height of my chin, which, let me tell you, is definitely pony sized. Like I mentioned, he was pitch black, except for his nose, which was specked with an almost pink color, like the nose of a cat. Tiron was the most agile, able to go from dead gallop to dead stop within a meter, and could turn on a dime.  
Okay, now Correr. 'Run' in Spanish, and believe me, he earned his name. Boy can that horse run! He was like a cheetah, that horse was! Faster than Tug, Abelard, and Tiron. And might I point out that all of those horses were fast as lightning. A beautiful chestnut, he was in the middle of Tiron and Abelard, who I'll get to in a minute, height wise.  
Tug. Oh Tug. He was a lemonsilla horse, which means that he had a tan body and a platinum blond tail and mane. Unlike most horses, he actually looked like he has a short mane all over his body. He was like the sheepdog of the horse world. It wasn't real long, maybe an inch, but it was still very unique. He was the smallest of the group, but was as good as any of them, and easily kept up when we weren't in an all out race, in which case he kept up with all of us except Dolar. He had the most endurance of us all, and I think if he was asked, would run until he literally dropped dead. But Will would never ask that of him, so no worries.  
And then there's Abelard. I believe you would call his coloring Red Dun, but personally I call it just red. It's the closest I have ever seen a horse come to being literally red, and it's a pretty good look. It's like, brown red, because it's not quite a real red. Being a 'real' horse, he was about seventeen hands tall, which, if my calculations are correct, means he's about 5'6". He was the most... regal, I guess, of the four, and he didn't walk, or trot, or canter. He pranced slowly, he pranced medium, he pranced fast, and a gallop is already sort of a prance. It was beautiful to watch, especially compared to the lope of our ponies.  
Okay, back to the story. So, Sarah, who still had no bow or quiver, as Correr had not come with them, was using mine to watch out for ambushes while Will and Halt tried their hardest to work out how to pull the stupid wagon. I, on the other hand, was stranded in the back, sitting on a wagon, using my Saxe knife to carefully cut strips of wood from a couple branches piled beside me so that Halt could work on making Sarah a new bow. I have no idea how they stay together, our recurves. They are made of tons of little strips of wood, and it's like they just fuse together. MAGIC! But, I feel for those other people out there who have to make the materials necessary, because it is _boring_.  
For the millionth time that day, I sliced another one by five by 1/40 strip of wood. "You can't ride in my little red wagon." I muttered, referencing a rhyme we'd been taught at our camp, and Sarah glanced over, grinning.  
"Front seat's broken and the axle's dragging." She finished. I grinned back, before turning back to my work. I had myself a nice little pile now, little strips of wood waiting patiently to be turned into a bow. Not one stained with blood, I thought. And of course, that cued me slicing my thumb.  
I swore softly, sticking the side of my finger in my mouth, before crawling on three legs to the front side of the wagon. Not hard, as it was a three and a half by three and a half square. Big enough to lay down on if I curled up, and a good area to sit in. Anyways, I crawled to the front and called, "Halt, can I borrow your first aid kit thingy?"  
Halt raised his eyebrows, saying slowly, "First aid kit thingy?"  
I wrinkled my nose. "You know, that thing with the bandages in it?"  
Halt rummaged in his saddle bag a moment, then tossed me a small wood box. I nodded thanks and then pulled out a few small bandage scraps leftover from Tiron and my's wounds. Tiron luckily didn't need any bandages anymore, because if he did, we'd be long out. Apparently horses heal really fast, or at least stop bleeding really fast. I, on the other hand, still needed them. Yay. I wrapped my finger, which, luckily, hadn't been cut very deep. I tossed the box back after a short call to Halt, and we continued on our merry way.  
"Halt, when do we get our own one of those?" I asked him, cutting another strip of wood, more careful now.  
Halt replied, "When I feel like giving it to you."  
"I bet you feel like giving it to me right now." I said, "Cuz that ain't the last of the cuts I'm gonna get."  
Halt looked thoughtful for a moment, even from the back, then said, "We'll see."  
I sighed and started cutting again.

* * *

The rest of the trip settled into a dull, repetitive beat. Two horses pull, two horses walk, one person guard, me slice the wood, every two hours one of the pulling horses switch off, so each horse has an hours worth of rest. So slow, compared to the typical steady canter that the horses usually can keep up. I couldn't help thinking, all the way there, _'How long till I ride, how long till I ride?_' By the time we decided it was time to camp each night, I was bored out of my mind.  
"Sarah, Will, you go start a fire. Kathryn, you come with me and we'll get something to eat." Halt beckoned me off of my cart. I crawled over to the edge, sat myself with my legs dangling over, and slid off. Then, I proceeded to slide to the ground, bad leg having absolutely no feeling what so ever.  
After a brief moment, I said, "Halt? I think this bandage is a little bit too tight."  
"You think?" He responded, eyeing my awkward position. He came over and, after rolling up my pant leg, delicately unwrapped the constricting cloth. I gasped as pins and needles raced through my leg, blood eager to continue flowing. It was like an army of angry mice had decided to come out and attack my leg with all the lost needles ever in the entire history of the world.  
The sensation faded, and Halt assisted me to my feet. "Come on." I followed, with a slight limp, into the forest.  
We entered deeper and deeper into the woods, when I eventually noticed something. "Halt?"  
He sighed. "Yes?"  
"Sarah's still got my bow."  
"So?"  
"Soooo..." I frowned, "What am I doing?"  
"Apparently, following me and forgetting things."  
I stuck out my tongue at his back but said nothing. In the deep silence, I knew I had to be very careful to make no noise, or the animals would be scared off.  
"Halt?" I whispered, and he sighed.  
"What?" His tone didn't encourage me to continue, and I thought of not saying anything, but decided it would annoy him more.  
"Don't we have dried food or something?"  
"Wouldn't you prefer fresh food?"  
I didn't respond, just pondered that. We continued on, crossing a small stream where I filled up my canteen. Then, Halt froze, and I tried to freeze as best I could, although I was in the middle of a step and had to complete it. He listened for a moment, then silently picked an arrow from his quiver, laying it on his the string and drawing it back, aiming at a bush. There he froze, seemingly watching. I examined every aspect of his posture, the way he held himself, the placement of his legs, the angle of his arms. I compared them to my own posture, plotting out where my differences were, and how to fix them.  
Thrum! Halt released the string, and the arrow shot away into the bush, followed by a short, cut off squeal. Then Halt walked forward and plucked a rabbit from the bushes. He removed the arrow, then handed me the rabbit. "Come on."  
We went back the way we'd come, Halt following his own footsteps back. He knelt at the stream, cleaning the gore off of his arrow before replacing it in his quiver.  
"Doesn't it hurt?" I blurted out, asking the question I hadn't realized I had been pondering all day.  
Halt gave me a curious look, a mix of concern and confusion. "What?"  
"Killing. People. Doesn't it hurt, like, inside?" I asked, now uncomfortable. Why would I ask this now? I looked like a wuss! But, even so...  
Halt looked at me thoughtfully. "When ever I have to kill someone, it is because the alternative is worse. People who do otherwise are... better left alone." His words came slowly, as if he had had the exact same thoughts as I had been having all day.  
"It's just - " I broke off, blinking off the tears that were building uncomfortably behind my eyes. Why was it that I always cried at really, really bad times? "It's just, even when I just shot that guy in the shoulder, I felt really, really guilty. Not just bad, but like I'd done something terrible."  
Halt came over to me, sitting me down on a fallen tree. "Look," he said, obviously uncomfortable himself. "that man was going to kill you, and your wounding him was the only other choice. You didn't kill him, which shows something of your character. That you feel something isn't bad, it shows you have a conscience, and that you're not malicious, or apathetic. To hurt, or kill, should not bring pleasure, nor should it evoke no emotion. But you must consider what the alternative might be. If not killing him would have resulted in something worse than his death, then you have made the correct decision. But one must be careful. Killing in cold blood, when there is an alternative, is what is unacceptable."  
"What about the men that you killed?" I asked, fighting the tears that threatened to brim. Stupid tear ducts!  
Halt sighed. "If I had just wounded them, what would have happened? They would have turned on the less experienced party members - you - and may have been able to overpower you even with a wound of their own. And if they had fled, they would have gone back to their masters, and been sent off to try and kill another innocent party. I had to think of all the people I saved, instead of those who I killed, as the former far outranked the latter." I nodded solemnly. There was a long silence, before Halt said, very, very quietly, "It seems you and I have more in common that I might have first thought." Then he rose from his seat, moving back the way we had come. I stayed a while longer, composing myself, letting myself calm down. Then, I moved over to the stream, splashed myself with the stream water to get rid of the redness that was undoubtedly present in my face, and then, carefully backtracking, following the subtle signs of passing, I stumbled back to the camp.  
Will, Halt, and Sarah sat about a fire, the rabbit now roasting cheerily. I came over and sat by Sarah, who was looking a tiny bit green.  
"So, got spoiled by the baths at the castle, eh?" Will said, pulling out the plates that were apparently stored in his pack.  
It took me a moment, but I realized the deception before I did something stupid. "Oh, yeah, I did. Hair's gonna be wet all night now." Thanks goodness I splashed myself a bit in that stream, I thought.  
"Yeah, well you'd better get used to it. Not a lot of time when you're on the run." Will seemed almost cheery as he said this, but there was the undercurrent of unease in the atmosphere, creating a tension that was almost palpable in the air. It only became stronger as we fell into an uncomfortable silence.  
As Halt continued to turn the rabbit on the spit, Sarah leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Kathryn."  
"Yeah?" I whispered back.  
"What am I gonna do?"  
"About what?"  
She gave me a look, before glancing meaningfully at the rabbit. I looked at the meat uncomprehendingly, then, eyes lighting up, mouthed 'Oh'.  
"Yeah."  
I thought for a moment, then, gathering up my nerve, I said, "Halt?"  
He sighed. "Yes?"  
I gulped. "Um, what - what's, ah, Sarah, you know, going to, you know, eat?"  
Halt looked at me. "I was assuming that she would eat the rabbit that is currently being cooked."  
I gulped again. Why did _I_ have to tell him that Sarah's vegetarian.  
"Well, ah, you see, Sarah, um, Sarah, um, she doesn't eat, well, she doesn't eat, um... meat."  
"Except fish!" Sarah piped in.  
Our mentors looked at us like we had grown second heads. "Don't eat meat?" Will said incredulous. "Then what do you eat?"  
"Ummm..." Sarah began, "Vegetables? And breads, and fruit, and - "  
"You eat meat now," Halt announced, "Or you don't eat at all. There may be some nights where we barely have time for a meal at all, so you either eat the meat, or don't eat anything. Understand?"  
"There won't be anything else?"  
Halt sighed exasperatedly. "What do you expect to have? We can't carry vegetables, and unless you just want hot water with dried rations floating in it, I suggest you eat meat. The broth is made with meat, there will be meat in the stew that will likely be our food for the majority of our journey. The. End."  
Sarah shrank during the duration of this speech, not ready to argue with Halt's decisiveness. Personally, I was very glad that I still ate meat. Sarah nodded meekly, accepting a plate with rabbit on it. I took mine gratefully, not even waiting for utensils before I picked it up with my bare hands and took a ravenous bite. Juice ran down my chin as I slowly chewed the deliciously warm piece of meat in my mouth. I can't even describe the taste of rabbit. Perhaps it was better because I was so hungry. It had an almost tangy undertone, but it still tasted like meat, and there was the taste of smoke from the rotisserie style of cooking it. I swallowed it, head tipped back, eyes closed, and sighed heavily with satisfaction. "Food is good." I commented to Sarah, before joyously taking another chomp out of the rabbit steak.  
Sarah, on the other hand, took a tiny little nibble of hers, reluctant to give in after not having eaten meat for a year. But then, after chewing it very slowly, repeatedly looking at Halt as if asking him to repeal his decree, she took another bite, then another and another. "You gotta do what you gotta do." she said through her very full mouth, but I could tell she was liking her meat.  
We finished our meal, and Will took our dishes to wash them in the stream. The rest of us sat about, watching the flickering flames slowly die down. That uncomfortable undercurrent seemed to rise and rise, until it was all I could do not to drown in it. Finally, I had to had to _had to_ break the silence. "So..."  
Halt looked up and gestured for me to continue.  
"Well, I was just wondering, you know, why you chose me for an apprentice. Or, I guess when you first noticed me." A good question, seeing I would have no idea what he was talking about when he told me. Then I could ask him to explain this and that, and no more uncomfortable silence.  
I saw what might have been a flicker of sadness cross Halt's eyes, but then it was gone. "Well, I suppose it would be that time when I saved you from a bunch of marauders who were chasing you to try and get back King Duncan's golden amulet."  
My jaw dropped. "What?!"  
Again that tiny flicker of disappointment. "I suppose there's no reason why you should remember that, either. Well, you used to be a ward, at Castle Redmont, and one day you decided that you'd had enough. You ran away, intending to make your own way in the world. It was when you were on the road that you witnessed the robbery of a royal courier, taking King Duncan's gold amulet, and a note that had gone with it. You recognized it by his seal on the back, and so followed them, intending to report them to the next officials you were able to get to easily. But, then one night you saw your chance, and stole it back. Unfortunately, the guard on their camp also saw you, and so you were chased into the forest. You fell and they had caught you. I saved you just in the nick of time, getting them with my bow, or else scaring them away. You had lost both stolen items in the mud of the marsh, but they were recovered, and you were, somewhat unhappily, returned to the ward. What you had not been informed of until the first day of your apprenticeship was that the amulet had contained some very important official papers, and you had unwittingly saved the kingdom a great deal of grief."  
Sarah and I stared at him with disbelief. "Okay, no offense, but there is no way I did that."  
Halt chuckled darkly. "Not that you would remember."  
I scowled, but Sarah wasn't put off. "How'd you find me?"  
Halt shrugged. "You'd have to ask Will. He never told me."  
I gasped sarcastically. "Will? Not tell you something? Never!"  
"I not tell Halt what?" Will said, emerging from the trees where he had been busy with the horses.  
"How you first thought that I was worthy of being a ranger." Sarah replied excitedly.  
Will sat, looking thoughtful. "Well, it would have to be the time you snuck into our cabin to try and read a piece of information involving your father."  
Sarah raised her eyebrows, clearly wishing for something more filled with action, but still interested. "What about my father?"  
Will laughed. "That's what you were trying to find out! He had been summoned to the baron, and you saw a piece of information coming out of the baron's chambers only minutes after your father had departed, put two and two together and got six. You followed the messenger to our cabin, then waited until everyone left the room where the paper had been left. Then, you climbed in a window, not seeing me watching from the corner, and read the paper, expecting to be able to tell your father what the baron had to say before he even met with him. Well, what you got was a paragraph of 'Happy Birthday Will' and quite a scare from me." Will laughed again, clearly recalling the incident very well.  
Sarah shook her head. "I can imagine that." Then, a look of pain crossed her face and she turned a peculiar shade of green.  
"You okay Sarah?" I asked.  
"I don't-" she broke off and ran to the side of the small clearing, before retching into the bushes. I stood and walked over, awkwardly patting her back as she doubled over.  
"Maybe we re-introduce the meat a little slower next time." I suggested as Sarah righted herself and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  
"Ya think?" she said, voice a little garbled.  
Together we returned, and I asked, "Halt, can we go to our tent? I think Sarah should lay down."  
Halt nodded silently, and we quickly popped up our tent. Then we rolled up in our cloaks and attempted to get some sleep. Sarah was out like a light, but I, on the other hand, lay awake. Sometimes, being a deep sleeper is a very, very good thing. Lucky Sarah. Even if she was terrified out of her wits like me about this whole thing, you know, almost being killed by people multiple times, she could just drop off to sleep. But me? No. I had to agonize about it for at least an hour, while my stomach tied it's self into knots. Tonight, at least, I was able to listen as Halt and Will conversed quietly in the night air.  
"-don't understand." Halt was saying, "She ate meat before they...changed. At the most she hasn't eaten meat for two months. It shouldn't make a difference..."  
"Maybe there was something else." Will suggested. "Maybe she's sick, or she ate something bad."  
Halt shook his head. "If she was sick, she would have other signs. And if she ate something bad, so did we, and none of us..."  
There was a long silence. Then, Halt told Will,"I'll take first watch. Kathryn will take second, you'll take third. We'll let Sal have a night off." Will consented, and there was the sound of two tents going up. Then I heard Halt's voice say, "Katie, it's really not a good habit to eavesdrop on other people's conversations."  
I knew being silent wouldn't fool him, so I said, "What are you talking about?" in a voice that suggested that I knew exactly what he was talking about, before rolling over and falling into a light sleep myself.

* * *

I woke to a hand shaking my shoulder. Halt was there, carefully not touching Sarah as not to disturb her.  
"No tents as soon as you two feel better." he whispered.  
I frowned but said nothing as I exited the tent behind him. He pointed at an angle just above where the trees hid the sky. "When the moon's there, get Will."  
"What if the clouds cover the moon?" I asked.  
Halt gave me a look. "Then I guess you'll just have to be on watch until morning." Then he left, walking to the softer grassy area, rolling into his cloak and apparently falling right to sleep.  
"Yeah right." I muttered before finding a nice climbable tree to sit in. There was a nice branch perhaps seven feet off the ground where I could sit easily, and there were smaller branches near the ground that would let me climb up to it easily too, even with my hurt leg. So, after gaining the vantage point, I leaned against the trunk of the tree, nocked and arrow, and prepared for a long night's watch.  
It turns out that even when you're terrified of being attacked by enemy warriors, you can still be drowsy when you've just been woken from slumber, and it's the middle of the night. So, without moving my lower body, I moved my head slowly back and forth, scanning the landscape, changing focus so as not to be looking at the same place all the time. I fought sleep, trying to imagine that any movement at all could be a warrior, which of course it could be, but it was less frightening to pretend I was pretending.  
Even so, my eyelids continued to droop. So I started soundlessly mouthing the words to songs, deciding that remembering the lyrics would keep me awake. I still had to focus on watching, but I also had to think about the words, and it did help to keep weariness at bay. I quickly went through all my Coldplay songs - Viva la Vida, Lost, 42, Death and All His Friends, Lovers in Japan, Violet Hill, Paradise. Then I started on miscellaneous songs - Wicked songs, Hotel California by the Eagles, Look What You've Done by Jet, How to Save a Life by The Fray, How You Remind Me by Nickelback. Others that I don't even know the name of. Then I started repeating, over and over, trying to keep conscious, not wanting to be caught asleep, even if we weren't attacked.  
Finally, in the middle of Imitation of Life by R.E.M., the moon sat it's self down on the tops of the trees. Staggering with exhaustion (and pain as my leg sent me a painful reminder that only yesterday I had been shot there), I jumped down from my perch, and shuffled over to where Will was lying in the warm down of last years fallen leaves. I didn't even have to shake him, he just woke up, apparently disturbed enough by my loud, tired steps to be dragged from sleep. Geeze that would be annoying, to wake up at every little noise. I'd never get any sleep at home. Anyways, Will stood, nodded to me, and I just about collapsed onto the ground, right where I stood, just pulling my cloak over my head and tighter about my shoulders, before plunging deep into sleep.

I yawned hugely the next morning as I felt a light kick in my side, not painful, just enough to wake me. More like a nudge, actually. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, unhappily. It was just barely dawn, which, in the summer, means that it's approximately five in the morning. I blinked to clear my vision, and was just in time to see Halt give Sarah a similar treatment through the side of our tent. I heard an unhappy murmur, and then saw movement. She's getting better at waking up, I thought.  
"Wha's fer breakfast?" I asked, yawning as I said it.  
"Not a lot." Will replied, pushing me a bowl of what looked like chicken broth. I took a sip. Not chicken broth, it tasted more like beef broth. I assumed it had been made from the bones of the rabbit. It was actually pretty good, and warming in the oddly chilly summer morning. No utensils, just drinking from the bowl. Sarah stumbled from her tent, blinking in the slightly lighter pre-dawn light. She took her bowl mechanically, drinking it and apparently not thinking about her vegitartianism any more. Or perhaps just not registering. I couldn't blame her. It was early, even if I hadn't had to do a shift of watch.  
"Get your tent down when you're done, and then we're moving on." Halt said briskly, scooping up his own bowl and downing the whole contents in one go. Then he went to where the horses where grazing on the light green grasses by the edges of the forest, crouching in front of Tiron to examine his side. I finished the rest of my meal and stood up, a little wobbly, before staggering over to our tent, and pulling out the poles that held it up. I quickly bundled it up, and then with the help of Sarah, who had finished her meal, tied it up and attached it to Tiron's saddle. Then came the begging.  
"Halt, can I ride today?"  
"No."  
"Why not? I feel better!"  
"Because I say so."  
"Why do you say so?"  
"Because it's not fully healed yet."  
"How do you know? You haven't checked on it."  
"Because I have encountered injuries of this type before, believe it or not."  
"C'mon, please?"  
"_No._"  
I sighed and climbed into the back of the wagon.

Through out the day, we periodically had to pull off into the woods to avoid a party of Scotti warriors trying to find us, but other than that the day was fairly uneventful. Eventually, as dusk was setting in, Sarah and I were deposited in a small clearing, while Will and Halt went off to do various things. Then there was a small meal, with Sarah getting less meat this time, and although she did turn a bit green, she didn't throw up again, and then we went to sleep, each taking a turn to take watch, with no one in a tent this time. To much hassle, Sarah and I decided.  
The next day was much the same, with the exception of the fact that, after a lot of pleading from Sarah and I, as well as a little supportive input from Will, we were allowed to stay in an inn in a little town in disguise - no weapons aside from Will and Halt's bows, no cloaks, just brown clothes, like the average hunters. We had a nice warm meal at a tavern down the street, mine consisting of a nice juicy steak, seasoned with every spice and sauce imaginable, and a nice cool glass of cider, the non-alcoholic version. Then, a little drowsy from the huge meal, we went up to our rooms, one for Sarah and I, one for Halt and Will. Sarah and I read, each grabbing one random book from the bookshelves that had been sitting decoratively in the lobbyish area. It may have been decorative, but it was the first reading in a couple days, and it was a relief. Finally, as night flowed in, we blew out the candle and each climbing into our beds, gratefully sunk into our mattresses.  
But, of course, that was much too good to be true.  
Of course it was.

* * *

Guess what I woke up to for the second time that week? Yelling. But not just yelling. It was accompanied by the sound of a huge, splintering crash of wood shattering at a huge impact, and pounding footsteps on the wooden floorboards.  
I jerked up and noticed that Sarah too was sitting up alertly, somewhat surprisingly. We listened closely, before simultaneously sliding from our beds and moving silently to the wall (or as silently as I could with my injury), pressing our ears to the boards to hear what was going on in Halt and Will's rooms.  
There were many unrecognizable voices, cheering and jeering and calling out. But then there was one very recognizable voice rising above the rest, muffled by the wall, and then silence.  
"Now what is this all about?" Halt asked calmly, voice holding just a subtle warning in it.  
"You know what, poacher." came a deep voice.  
"Poacher?" Will said, baffled.  
"Don't play dumb." came a different voice. "We saw the bundles on your cart - disguised furs!"  
"And what makes you think those bundles contain furs?" Halt said, trying to piece it together. I frowned at Sarah, and she frowned back.  
"How else would you have got the money for your meals? Your purse was jingling with coins!" A woman's voice this time, indignantly enraged.  
Now I could feel that we were coming to an impasse. Halt and Will couldn't tell the people - presumably the villagers - who we really were; that would put them and us in danger. But telling them anything else would be difficult to pass off. We hadn't been expecting this type of confrontation.  
So, sensing that there was no way for Halt and Will to solve this on their own, I decided to take things into my own hands.  
Which, of course, was completely stupid.  
I unlatched our door, grateful that I had slept fully dressed, and moved over to the next door over, where a veritable mob had gathered in the doorway, complete with torches and even one pitchfork that I could see. I shoved my way through the crowd, mumbling pardons, half hoping that Sarah was right behind me, and half hoping that she wasn't, and stumbled out into the small semicircle of space that had formed around Halt and Will. Both of them were holding out their Saxe knives in front of them protectively. Which totally helped with the image of their innocence.  
And it was at this point that I realized that I had no plan what so ever. So, I just said the first thing that came into my head.  
"Grandpa, what is going _on_ here?"  
I saw in Halt's eyes the flicker of emotion that passed at the word 'Grandpa', but then he realized what was going on and said, "These people seem to think that your... brother, and I, are poachers."  
It took all my will not to splutter at the word 'brother'. Will was at least twenty seven, perhaps older, and I was sixteen. Brother? But in the relative darkness (the torches didn't light the room all that well) one might mistake either Will as being younger (he was shorter than the average full grown man) or me as being older, or possibly both. I still didn't have a plan, so I, once again, said the first thing that popped into my head. "You forgot you licenses _again_?" I said, in my best whiny teenager voice. "And just when business was getting good!" I hoped with all my might that a license was the regulation that distinguished between hunter and poacher.  
It seemed I was at least partially correct. "So it would seem." Halt replied dryly. Will was just kind of looking back and forth trying to see if putting in a word would help or hinder our cause. He apparently decided the latter, because he remained silent.  
There was a long silence where it seemed we'd almost get away with this answer, when a voice from the very back of the crowd, almost in the hallway, called out, "Prove it!"  
And that was all it took to ignite. The entire crowd roared, now calling to see proof of who we were. The two bows that had been carried in by Halt and Will were, apparently, not enough proof. So now we were once again trapped. And now I was drawing a blank.  
Then, it was Sarah to the rescue. She moved out of the the shadows and said, with a highly exaggerated sigh. "Well, c'mon, I guess we'd better get the furs from our room. Poachers don't give away their furs for free." This insinuated, of course, that we would be. Gulp.  
I glared at her, trying to tell her her that, _no Sarah, there are furs in our room, in case you hadn't noticed_, but I said, out loud, "Yeah, I guess we should." I turned to the people before us. We shouldered our way out into the corridor, pushing past people (or really, Sarah did, and I limped along behind), and then into our room, swinging the door mostly shut to hide from the peering eyes that threatened to call our bluff. Sarah knelt before her pack, rummaging through it.  
I knelt beside her, hissing, "What are you thinking?"  
"Just trust me," she hissed back, before jumping up with a gasp. She crouched again, throwing about her items, completely emptying her bag and then emptying mine as well. Then she jumped to her feet, ran through the mass of people and stumbled to a halt before our mentors and, gasping, with a totally panicked look on her face, yelped, "The furs! They're gone!"  
I murmur swept through the crowd, and to my surprise, it wasn't the sound of suspicion, it was the sound of concern and outrage.  
"Thieves!" one man cried, "There are thieves in our town!"  
There was a great commotion at this point, and people started pushing quickly out of the room, calling for the thief to be found. One man pulled away from the crowd, calling to us, "You just wait here, and we'll find your furs, no problem. You'll need some rest before you leave tomorrow, _with_ your furs." He sounded very confident. Then the room was vacated, dark in the absence of the torches. There was a shuffling, then Will held a lit candle in his hand, giving us a tiny circle of light. We stood in a small circle, looking at each other. Finally, Sarah broke the silence.  
"Wow. I can't believe that actually worked."  
Will responded with, "Simple town folk - easier than you'd think." Sarah scowled, but said nothing.  
Again, there was that strained silence. Then, finally, Halt came out with, "Grandpa?!" sounding angry, confused, amused, and incredulous, all at the same time.  
I chuckled, but was blushing fiercely. "Yeah."  
"But-" Halt didn't even finish the sentence, just kept staring at me.  
"I thought it was a pretty good cover, actually." Sarah put in tentatively. "It certainly made us look less like poachers."  
Halt frowned, but was silent . Will on the other hand, wasn't.  
"Brother?!" he perfectly mimicked Halt's tone of voice from before. I smothered a laugh.  
Now it was Halt's turn to explain. "Well you couldn't very well be her father, could you?"  
Will flushed slightly, but continued. "She - she - she doesn't even look anything like me!"  
Halt shrugged. "Your cowl was up."  
Will sighed in exasperation, but said nothing more. Sarah and I turned out to be the only ones who seemed to find this a success.  
Sarah endeavored to show them this. "Well, at least we're not in prison, right?"  
Halt smiled grimly. "So it would seem. But we may be very soon. Tomorrow we buy some supplies, perhaps with a discount because of our 'stolen furs', and them we'll be on our way. No more towns, either. From now on we give towns a wide berth, understand?"  
Three heads nodded unhappily, even though we understood the reasoning perfectly. Sarah and I went back to our rooms, (with a second candle) even though sleep seemed out of the question at this point. As we each sat on our beds, we faced each other and grinned.  
"That went well." Sarah said.  
"Indeed it did." I said solemnly before laughing at the absurdity of it all. "Man, we could be in school right now."  
Sarah looked thoughtful. "I think I like this better. Except for the almost dying part."  
"Nah, I like that part better too." I decided, swinging my legs up onto my bed, curling onto my side. "Think we can sleep tonight?"  
"Nope." Sarah replied, before licking her forefinger and thumb and pinching the candle out.

* * *

**I 3 reviews guys! And, if you have suggestions, don't feel shy to tell me them! I can't promise I'll use them, but I can promise I'll consider them :)**


	12. Chapter 12: Someday

**Hey guys! Thanks for your reviews, love you all! So, this is a chapter I'm a little happier with, but I like the coming ones even more, so hold on. I've really got nothing to say for this one, so onto quick responses.**

**Tessi: I agree, I could have woven it in a bit better. But when I was actually writing it, only my friend was reading it and she was like "Just tell me what they look like!" So I stuck that in for her, and I was editing late at night and had no inclination to fix it. I appreciate the feedback, and if I am so inclined I will go and fix it someday :)**

**Farmer's Daughter: Always so positive! Thank you many times over. I'm glad you thought Halt was IC :D**

**Oh, and there's one part where you will think 'Wtf?' but trust me, it'll make sense later in the chapter!**

**P.S. if I ever day the name Dolar, it means Correr - I'm changing his name as I go, so let me know if I miss one.**

* * *

We woke early the next morning, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon. We all packed up our things, Sarah and I stashed the books we had read earlier in our bags, leaving a coin that had been begged from Halt before hand on the desk in compensation, and then headed down to the lobby-ish place in the inn.  
"Oy, hunters!" the innkeeper called out from across the room just as we were exiting the building. His voice sounded sad, even with an odd southern drawl. "Sorry 'bout your furs. No sign of yer robbers last night. We found a couple odd travelers in the night, but none of 'em had yer furs. I hope you can make it to where ever yer headin, and find you s'more animals to skin." He smiled at us, one of his front teeth missing.  
"Thank you for your concern, but I think we should be fine." Halt replied mildly, before ushering us out onto the street.  
Stalls lined the streets, just opening up for the day. In the predawn light, there were no shadows, just a gray light that lit all of the street equally. Shops that were housed in buildings had their doors open, propped open with rocks. Their was an odd hush on the road, but it was clear by the number of vendors that soon there would be a bustling crowd, loud and hot in the morning sunlight.  
We moved through the oddly muted streets, Sarah and my footsteps sounding unnaturally loud in the silence, while Halt and Will's footsteps made no sound what so ever. Unsure quite what we were doing, Sarah and I trailed behind our mentors, in the same manner children follow their mother through a store.  
Halt stopped at one stand where a man was unpacking small boxes from a larger box onto his little rolling cart that he had positioned outside of a clothing store. The man looked up a smiled.  
"Hey, you're those four who got robbed last night!" his voice was lilting and soft, but didn't have that sound of pity that the innkeeper's voice had. "Teach you to lock your doors at night, eh?"  
"I suppose so." Halt said dryly. "Now, if I'm not mistaken, that would be coffee you are unpacking there."  
"You would be correct good sir! How can I help you?"  
"I'd like four boxes of it, if you please. One for each of us."  
"Um, actually Halt," I began, "I don't like coffee."  
Halt looked over his shoulder at me. "You don't like coffee?" he said slowly, giving a look as if I'd suddenly grown a second head.  
"No, it's too bitter." I muttered, casting my eyes down and feeling my ears grow hot, along with my cheeks.  
Halt sighed and turned back to the vendor. "Make that three boxes."  
"I have tea too, if you'd like." The vendor replied, sliding three boxes over the top of his cart.  
"That'd be better." I mumbled, scuffing the toe of me boot across the ground.  
"Okay, one box of tea." Halt said irritably. "Can we just get _going_?"  
Another box slid across cart. Then a couple coins slid the other way.  
We went on, Halt clearly itching to get going. We stopped at several other shops, getting food, replacement medical supplies, etc. Then, we hitched up the wagon and set off along the road.  
We rode in silence for a while, Tug and Correr toiling along in front while I sat in the back, with my little pile of wood shavings for Halt to work with, presumably soon. The sun slowly lit the tops of the trees as we passed through them, casting odd shadows that never touched the forest floors, just the tops of the bare trunks. The wind gently rustled the leaves, and they hissed, making the wind audible. The smell of fall was wafting through the air, and in the early morning light I could see that the leaves were tinged with fire, their vibrant colors set alight by the sun. _Autumn is coming_, I thought unhappily, _and we're still on the run_. Tiron, seeming to feel my thoughts, sped up slightly until he was moving along right next to me. He butted his nose gently against my upper arm, and I gave his soft nose a stroke. Then, I turned to face the front again.  
"Halt?" I called up, and he, far ahead to watch for danger, turned slightly and non-commitally. "Do you think I could ride Tiron now?"  
He stroked his beard thoughtfully, guiding Abelard with his knees. After a long moment, he nodded slowly. "We could see how it goes." He motioned us to a stop, and I gleefully slid off the cart, biting back a grimace as I put too much strain on my leg. No way I was riding in that stupid cart again. No way.  
Tiron trotted up, turning sideways happily. I tightened his girth, waiting until he exhaled, so that he wouldn't be trying to cheat and loosen the strap later. Ranger horses actually aren't supposed to do that, but Tiron was always trying to pull it off, naughty boy that he is. Then, I undid the safety knot that held the reins, tossed them over his neck and, without waiting for Halt's offered help, swung myself up.  
Tiron shifted slightly under my weight. I saw the bare spot on his neck where the arrow had pierced it, but noted that it looked much better than my wound did. He tossed his head , and I looked at him quizzically. Ranger horses never tossed their heads, unless-  
I whirled around, knife already half out of it's sheath. A figure crouched in the underbrush, and seeing me whip around jumped up.  
"Peace, peace!" he called out, throwing up his hands. He stepped out onto the main road, eyes wide.  
"I was wondering when you would notice." Halt commented. Then, addressing the man, "Why are you here?"  
"I-I-I..." he seemed to have to think about it. "Your knives are weird. The way they're bucked on one on top of the other like that."  
"Yes." Halt said, obviously waiting for the rest.  
"Well..." the man shuffled his feet, "It's just, I wuz wunderin... ya see..."  
"No, I don't see." Will commented dryly.  
"Ifoundasetjustlikethoseonthe roadafewdaysagoandiwaswunder inifyoucouldtellmewheretheyc amefrom." he finally spit out, in such a rush the words were almost incomprehensible.  
Halt and Will looked at each other, uneasy looks crossing their faces, and Sarah and I looked at them. The look on their faces made my stomach twist with fear.  
"Do you happen to have them with you?" Halt said very slowly.  
The man reached inside his shirt and pulled out the double scabbard, both knives still sheathed. Halt leaned over Abelard and numbly lifted the knives from the man's hand. He examined them for a moment, no expression on his face. Then, he passed them to Will, presumably for his inspection. My breath caught in my throat. Sarah across the cart from me was frozen in place, gazing with something close to horror at the double scabbard. Suddenly, Will sucked in a breath through his teeth, just about dropping the item in his hands. Then he whispered something so quietly that no one could hear him, but everyone could read the word upon his lips.  
'Gillan.'  
I heard Sarah utter a tiny cry and I felt that if I could breathe, I would do the same. But my throat had closed; it was as if I was trying to breathe underwater. I looked at Halt, begging him with my eyes to say it wasn't so, but Halt just gave a tiny nod, almost imperceptible. Sarah cried out again, and I could feel my lungs burning for air, along with my eyes with tears. Although I hadn't known Gillan personally for all that very long, I had instinctively liked him. And I had known him for a year through writing and I had liked him there too. And now, he was... dead? My lungs screamed and I felt myself getting dizzy. I leaned forward, clutching to Tiron's mane, watching with fascination at the black dots that swam across my vision, finding it curious that I was having such a reaction to the death of someone I hardly knew. I had the sensation of falling... and then that of being flung upward, then plummeting again, and then thudding to the ground. The breath that had been stuck in my chest was slammed out, and as the last ounce of air I had left shot from me, I felt my lungs expand, fighting for air...  
But I was getting air.  
I felt a hand on my forearm, and as I gasped like a fish out of water, I saw the man from before lean over me. Now tears did gather in my eyes, and I blinked them back forcibly. Gillan was dead. I felt my throat start to tighten and forced myself to cough violently, and felt it open up again. With the help of the man, I sat up, one helping arm wrapped around my waist. Then, after a few seconds, I shook my head and stood, if a bit shakily.  
"Sorry, that was dumb, I don't-"  
Tiron virtually knocked me over, rubbing my middle concernedly. Correr nickered softly and looked at me, while Tug and Abelard just looked confused, as did their riders.  
"It's just that-"  
"Let's just go." Will said, his voice breaking. He tossed the man a coin. "We'll be keeping the knives, if you please."  
As I swung into the saddle, the man examined the coin, before saying, "Can you at least tell me where they came from?"  
Halt examined him carefully. Then said, "They came from a place that you will likely never see." Then, he spun Abelard about and spurred him into a canter. After a short delay, we were in hot pursuit of him, three little ponies following after a prancing horse.

* * *

I groaned as I practically fell out of the saddle for the second time that day. My thigh was burning where it had been rubbing slightly against the saddle. Tiron stood with his legs spread in a braced position, sides heaving, sweat drenching his sides. He hadn't had a rider in a couple days, and had since gotten unused to carrying that much weight. I patted his side affectionately, and he blew through his nose to acknowledge my touch. I pulled out a brush from my saddle pack and, after loosening his girth, rubbed him down thoroughly. I even lifted his saddle, rubbing under the hard leather. Then, after I had given him a good rubbing, I reached inside my own bags and grabbed my comb. (Okay, little side story here - I hate combs. They just don't work in my hair, but here it's harder to make a brush than a comb, so that's what I've got). Anyways, I took my comb and began to gently run it through his mane, and continued to do so until it was a single curtain of shimmering black. Then I moved to his tail, and did the same with it. Then, I quickly went to each of his wounds to make sure that they hadn't re-opened. Satisfied that they hadn't, I turned around to see Sarah still tending to Correr. Deciding to leave her to it, I gave Tiron a gentle kiss on the nose and started towards where I knew that Halt and Will had led Tug and Abelard. I was starving, as we hadn't stopped for lunch, and was eager to have some nice fresh food.  
Then, without warning, I was on the ground. My eyes stared up at the tree tops, and a falling leaf landed on my face. Shaking my head unhappily, I jumped back to my feet. How do you even trip backwards?  
Then, I was on the ground again, but this time I had felt the impact of a hand on my shoulder and a leg in the back of my leg. I rolled away, and jumped up, turning sideways and bringing up my hands. Then let them drop and felt my jaw drop. "Halt!" I said indignantly, voice rising at the end of the word.  
"Yes?" he replied, one eyebrow raised.  
"You-why'd-did you-"  
"Yes, I did knock you down."  
"Why?!"  
"Because the enemy won't be quite so polite as I am." he snapped. "Just because we're on the run doesn't mean we stop training. If anything, we must train all the harder, in preparation for the real thing that will inevitably come."  
"But I'm hungry!" I whined, not caring if I sounded like a moan-y little girl. "And I'm hurt!"  
"Do you think that they care?" Halt gestured at the road. Then his tone softened. "We've got no choice. You can eat when we've finished."  
"Fine, but it better be something good." I spread my legs so they were shoulder width apart, just as my karate instructors had taught me what seemed like so long ago and turned sideways so that I was a smaller target. I brought my hands up, one with the forearm coming across my lower ribcage to protect my solar plexus, but still ready to punch, the other brought up at a forty five degree angle, hand protecting my face. I tossed my hair over my shoulder with a flick of my head, and then I waited, sure Halt would make the first move. And he did. Just not the one I was expecting.  
He took a step back, and melted into the forest. I swore under my breath and watched, trying to see just a flicker of movement. Nothing. A bird called in the slowly dimming light, and I heard the flutter of wings. This was unfair! I was just starting to straighten to pursue when-  
Wham! I was on the ground. I just barely kept my head from smashing into the earth, and was winded despite my attempts. He had really gotten me this time. I groaned.  
"The bird should have tipped you off. I gave you a hint." Halt told me conversationally. Then, dropping the act, said, "Again."  
Still gasping a little, I righted myself, wincing. I shook my head, rubbed my eyes and sank into a ready stance, watching him. No waiting for him to reappear this time. The second he took a step back, I was going in after- Whoosh! I just barely ducked as Halt's foot went whistling over my head. I quickly followed up with a inside-to-out block to divert his fist away from my face, twisting desperately out of the way. This threw me off balance, and I soon found myself on the ground, arm pinned under me. Suddenly, Halt was sitting on my back, his saxe knife pressed against my neck. My eyes widened.  
"Relax, I'm not using the sharp part." Halt remarked, and I realized that it was indeed the flat of the blade that I felt on my neck. "Now how do you get out."  
I thought back to when we had done knife defense in class. We had never addressed this particular problem, but I did remember my teacher telling me that people were badly off balance when there were sitting on you. I took a deep breath, and then pushed with my right arm and leg as hard as I could, twisting my body underneath him. Just as I had hoped, he fell off, rolling gracefully away before regaining his feet. Slightly less gracefully, I staggered to my feet again.  
"Not bad." Halt said, and I felt a glimmer of pride, before Halt completely crushed it, saying "Except that if I had been using the blade you would be dead."  
I didn't have time to reply. Halt was already attacking again, forcing me to step back as I frantically tried to block all of his strikes. For a while I was succeeding, but then he faked a strike with his left hand and instead shot a foot behind my knee, making me collapse to the ground with a cry as the involuntary movment pulled at my wound. But I wasn't going to let him get me again. I was up in an instant and shot out kick, twisting sideways so I would strike with the side of my foot. I didn't look as I struck, and so I didn't see Halt grab my ankle and give it a yank, sending my tumbling once more to the ground. I groaned. "This isn't fun." I told him through my arm which I had draped across my eyes, trying to fend off the headache that was pending.  
"It won't be in real life, either, unless we keep practicing." he insisted. When I didn't move, he grabbed my arm and pulled me forcefully to my feet. To my surprise, he didn't let go, instead pinning it behind my back and wrapping his other arm around my neck in a choke hold. "Get out."  
This one I did know. I turned my head so that my chin was in the crook of his arm so he couldn't choke me, then took my free arm and pinwheeled it around so that it went over the arm Halt held my neck with, and I used the palm of my hand to strike him on the cheek (not as hard as I actually would, but hard enough). He understood that I could actually strike harder (I guess) and released me, and I stumbled forward before kicking backwards in a spin kick that I figured might prevent him from grabbing my foot. It did, but it also didn't connect. I brought my foot all the way around and landed in a back set stance (70% of your weight on the back foot, 30% on the front). Halt tried to sweep my foot, but because I was balanced the way I was I didn't fall. I was feeling all triumphant, when I felt my back foot suddenly wasn't on the ground, and I thudded onto the dirt once more.  
This sort of thing must have gone on for at least an hour. Then, as Halt sent me tumbling with a powerful take down, I just lay there, chest heaving, eyes closed, body aching. My leg had especially hurt that time, and was continuing to throb as I laid there.  
"Get up." I heard Halt's voice again, and I grimaced. I rolled forward onto my knees, then whimpered as my leg burned. I opened my eyes a crack and looked down at my leg, seeing the dark stain that appeared on my pants near my stitches. I braced my hands on my knees, sitting on my heels, and just concentrated on getting air. I could feel Halt looking at my back, unable to see my leg.  
"Maybe we should stop for now." I suggested timidly, wincing as my voice warbled slightly. Halt, the master of reading emotions, came over and knelt beside me. He looked at my pant leg, was silent a minute, then nodded.  
"I think so." he agreed, helping me to my feet. I nodded a thank you, and he led me to a brightly burning fire. Gratefully, I plopped down on a log that laid beside the fire, despite the fact that I would probably have to move when it was needed to burn. My whole body ached, not just my leg, and it was a relief to be able to just sit. Halt sat beside me and gently help me roll my pant leg up. He shook his head and then moved over to his pack, pulling out the first aid kit. As he sat beside me again, he said, "Perhaps something a bit less strenuous tomorrow."  
"Tomorrow?" I groaned, disliking the idea of doing this every night. Carefully avoiding looking at my leg, I asked, "How bad?"  
"You didn't tear the stitches, but the skin that had been healing back together tore back open." Hearing my anxious intake of breath, he hurried on, "You'll still be able to ride tomorrow. Truthfully, you don't have a lot of choice." He wrapped a bandage about my leg, surprisingly gentle for the guy who had been attacking me minutes before. They were tight, but not so tight that they cut off circulation like before. Then, as he replaced his first aid kit, I rolled my pant leg back down.  
"Where's Sarah?" I asked, peering curiously through the thick trees.  
"You don't think you're the only one who's still being trained, do you?" Halt replied mildly, tossing me a hunk of dry bread. I wrinkled my nose but bit into it none the less. It may not have been tasty, but it was food.  
Halt left, presumably to go catch dinner, and Will and Sarah returned. Judging by Sarah's look of exhaustion, her training had been just as rigorous as mine. She looked at me, then at my bread, and then at me again. "No fair!" she said finally. Will grinned.  
"Here, food as promised." Will said, passing Sarah her own hunk of bread. Sarah took it and began taking large ravenous bites out of it. Will looked around. "Did Halt go to get food?"  
"Mmm hmm." I replied through a mouth full of bread. Chewing the hard stuff was a challenge, but I did so happily despite the difficulty.  
Sarah gave me a tired smile. "I assume your workout was as tiring as mine."  
"You could say that." I replied smoothly, taking another bite of bread. Sarah gave me a quizzical look, before she saw the blood.  
"Oh gosh!" she exclaimed, "You okay?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Stitches are fine, just a little blood, no biggie."  
Judging by the look she gave me, Sarah didn't quite believe that, but she didn't pursue it.  
Halt silently re-entered the clearing, holding a small limp figure in his hand. Will wrinkled his nose. "A stoat?"  
"Beggars can't be choosers." He pointed out, tossing the small creature to his younger companion. Will didn't look happy, but he pulled out his throwing knife, as his saxe would be too big, and carefully skinned the creature. As he did so, I carefully memorized every wrinkle in my boots. Then there was the sound of bubbling water, a couple of plops, and soon afterwards the beautiful scent of cooking meat. After a few minutes, Will moved the pot over some coals, and taking out four bowls, he scooped out a little stew into each and gave us each one. I didn't even wait for utensils, and, as I learned later, if I had, I would have been waiting for a long time. I just brought the bowl to my lips and tipped it, so the warm liquid ran pleasantly down my throat. Honestly, it was scaldingly hot, but I didn't care at the time - I was ravenous, and the liquid felt soothing on my throat, which had become slightly hoarse. On the last mouthful of liquid, I took the time to actually chew on a piece of meat. I quickly stopped and swallowed it along with the rest of the stew. I'm here to tell you that stoat, despite how good it smells cooking, is not very tasty at all. I licked my lips and leaned forward, hoping that there might be some more, but, predictably, there wasn't. I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised; the stoat had been really little. I rose with a groan. Along with my newly re-opened wound, I was very sore from a full days riding after not having ridden for a couple of days.  
"I'm gonna turn in for now." I told the rest of the group, and they looked up.  
"You've got second watch." Will informed me.  
"Cool. I'm gonna be over there."  
I walked slowly over to where Tiron was grazing placidly. I moved over and stroked his soft nose. He watched for a while with his big brown eyes. Then he pressed his foread to my side, just like my camp horse from back home had. He was very much like my little Zipper, just a lot better behaved. I stroked his neck and the side of his face gently as I whispered, "How you doin' boy?"  
_Fine._  
Whoa. Now, I've read the books, and I knew that the ranger's seemed to have conversations with their horses, but I had always thought it was result of an overative imagination. I wasn't sure it wasn't still that. However, I couldn't have heard him more clearly if he had spoken in plain English.  
"Oh. Okay, I mean that's good, I mean... I'm just gonna go sleep a little ways over there." I said eventually, turning away and laying in a small patch of grass. As I drifted to sleep, I could have sworn I heard Tiron laughing.

* * *

I woke up to a bout of raucous coughing. It took me a moment to wake enough to realize that the noise was coming from me. It wasn't a normal cough either; it was the kind of cough where it feels like your throat might actually start bleeding if it continues. I coughed so long and hard that I would run out of air, and have to steal a gulp of oxygen with a loud sound like that of a muted siren. When it finally stopped, I simply lay there, my body limp as I panted, listening to the echoes of my noise. Then, frowning, I sat up. We were in the forest - there shouldn't have been an echo.  
I looked around. Tiron was looking at me concernedly, but I ignored him for the time being and looked across the clearing. I could see Sarah, curled into a ball, her body shaking. Unsure quite what to do, I unsteadily gained my feet and walked over to her, wanting to be there incase she found that she actually couldn't breathe - I had almost felt like that. When her coughing finally stopped, she let out a soft groan and rolled onto her back, meeting my eyes. "Ouch." she rasped, hand rubbing pointlessly at her throat.  
"What's the problem?" Will asked, his voice suggesting he wasn't happy to be woken.  
"They chose a fine time to get whooping cough, didn't they?"  
Sarah and I jumped a foot in the air as Halt's voice came from above. We looked up and saw Halt crouching in the low branches of a tree.  
"Whooping cough?" I asked incredulously. It shouldn't have been possible, for I knew I'd been immunized against whooping cough as a baby, but... I mean, the 'whoop' noise had been present.  
"I'm actually quite surprised you haven't had it already." Halt continued, jumping down from the tree. "And I can't think of a worse time for you to get it. Hard to be silent when you're coughing uncontrollably."  
"He he, I knew that was real..." Sarah said softly, sending me a sheepish smile. I stifled a laugh.  
"Well, at least they're old enough to remember to breathe." Halt said to no one in particular. "Sometimes younger children forget to do that." I don't honestly know about myself, but Sarah turned pale as a ghost. Halt smiled wolfishly. "Thought that might get your attention."  
Feeling a little nauseous, I asked, "So whats gonna happen now? We can't hide, soooo..."  
"So we wont." Halt said oh-so-helpfully.  
"And we will..." I coaxed.  
"Use disguises." Will guessed, looking to his old mentor for confirmation.

Halt nodded, before saying, "Consider what we're about to do your training for the day."  
Sarah and I glanced at each other. Judging by our 'training session' yesterday, this was not going to be fun.  
We were right.

"Oh no, you are _not_ forcing me into that! No! N.O. No!" I must admit, I agreed with Sarah's sentiment. Halt was holding out a pair of cloth bundles, dresses that were part of our disguises. What we were worried about, however, were the two smallish pieces of fabric with long leather cords. Unfortunately, I was all too aware of what they were.  
"You should just be glad you got out of wearing them at the castle. The excuse that you weren't in fact ladies was just enough to get the maids at the castle to not bother you with them. If you are going to pass as average girls of sixteen, however, you're going to have to wear a corset." He tossed what looked like make up cases on the ground, along with a couple of wooden vials and what looked like a bottle opener.  
"Wouldn't a sick sixteen year old not wear one?" Sarah protested.  
Halt seemed to thing about this for a moment. I felt a glimmer of hope. Which of course meant that someone had to crush it.  
"No, I think they'd still wear one." Will called from across the clearing, where he was working to make our supplies look more average. Not that we had all that much in the first place, but the average traveler doesn't bring four bows with quivers and eight knives. "Sixteen year old girls are typically very conscious of their appearance."  
"Thanks Will!" I called sarcastically, and even though Will was facing away from me, I could tell that he was grinning.  
"I'm still not wearing that." Sarah informed our mentors, "Just tell them I'm crazy or something."  
"And that would draw any attention." Halt said dryly, "Now we can do this the easy way, or the hard way."  
Sarah looked miffed, but snatched up the bundle of clothes and marched away into the forest to change anyways, apparently as worried as I was about just what the hard way might be. I didn't feel any happier about the way things were going, but I tried to take my things with a little more dignity as I followed Sarah.  
I had no idea how hard it is to put on a corset. In the end, Sarah and I had to assist each other, pulling the cords tight over the under-dresses that were apparently used for keeping bumps out of the actual dresses, but also used, I think, for cooking mediaeval maidens alive. Then we each pulled on our dress, mine ivory and Sarah's a very light green. They were, despite the warm weather, full length with 3/4 length sleeves. I have to admit, the corsets, if uncomfortable, did have a slimming effect. Both of us were much thinner than when we first arrived here, but in the corsets, we looked like those movie starts that have surgery to be thinner.  
We walked back to the clearing, stumbling in the primitive high heels they had made us wear. I stopped dead at the sight that greeted us.  
Both Halt and Will wore loose but dignified tunics, although their pants and boots remained the same. This was not what surprised me. What surprised me was that Halt's hair and beard were no longer unruly and messily cut, but neatly trimmed. Perhaps the most surprising of all, however, was that Will's light brown hair was now black, glinting like a raven's feathers.  
Will smiled a mischievous smile. "You're next."  
We both tried to bolt, but our mentors caught us easily and wrestled us into submission so our hair could be dyed. It was dyed the same deep black as Will's had been, the dye smelling _awful, _like rotting fish. I wondered disgustedly what the origin of the dye might be, before deciding I probably didn't want to know.  
Then they proceeded to style out hair. Apparently our naturally wavy hairstyle wasn't good enough, so, with surprising skill, Halt and Will pinned up our hair. Mine was pulled up into a tight bun that twisted my hair up and then tucked in into the center. Sarah's hair was a waterfall of loops and twists that flowed down her back. I was pretty sure that no 16 year old went to all this trouble when they were ill, but who was I to say?  
However, the worst was somehow yet to come.  
_"side-saddle?!"_ I spluttered, breaking into a fit out coughing at the end of the word. A nasty sting established its self in my torso, where my lungs were situated, along with a nasty twinge from my leg.  
"Again, _ladies_ don't straddle their horse." Halt's words sounded almost accusing.  
"Well so-rry," Sarah whispered under her breath. She gripped Dolar's reigns and started to twist up onto her saddle, but Will pulled her back down.  
"That won't work, I don't think." He said, before lifting her up onto the saddle, where she sat awkwardly in her sideways position. She wobbled but, grabbing Dolar's mane, managed to stay upright.  
Halt grabbed me and hoisted me up as well. The saddle was most certainly not made for side saddle riding - there was this hump in the middle meant to help keep you balance while straddling the horse, but was a serious impediment when riding side saddle. I accidentally pulled back on Tiron's reins in an attempt to keep my balance, and Tiron compliantly stepped back, just like he had been taught. I screeched and started to tip backwards, pinwheeling my arms. Then I felt a strong grip fasten about my wrist. With my legs still scrabbling to get some sort of hold on the saddle, I righted myself and forced myself to meet Halt's one-eyebrow-raised gaze.  
"I meant to do that." I said jokingly. Halt just shook his head and went over to mount Abelard. I gripped Tiron's mane in a death grip, and sat up as straight as I could so as to avoid falling over.  
"So how exactly do we get going side-saddle?" Sarah asked, placing a steadying hand on the back of her saddle.  
"Well, for purposes of convenience, nothing. Just tell them to follow us." Will replied.  
I thought hard and searched my memory. I tentatively pointed at Abelard and said, "Follow, boy." For a moment nothing happened, but as Halt gently put his heels to Abelard's sides, Tiron took a step forward. I wobbled but managed to stay upright. I held my breath, praying that we would not be going any faster - a trot would be disastrous. However it soon became apparent that a walk was going to be our speed limit. I let out a sigh of relief - and it turned into a fit of coughing. On the first cough, I lost my balance, and by the first whoop I was on all fours in the dirt, staining my skirt, one hand clutching my middle, my leg silently screaming bloody murder. Tiron, not sure whether this was part of some elaborate plan, started driving his hooves into the ground with a vengeance on one side and only a little harder than before on the other, trying to imitate the pattern that side saddle riding prints had. Halt and Will brought their horses around, and Tiron and Dolar circled around. Sarah was laughing so hard her face was red, and I watched as she too began to loose her balance. She let out a little squeak as she toppled forward from the saddle, just like I did, and as she hit, the laugh transformed into a cough, just like mine.  
Halt and Will leaped from their saddles, and Halt offered me his hand. As my coughing subsided, I took it, pulling myself to shaky feet, weight all on my good leg. After catching my breath briefly, I said, "This isn't going to work."  
Halt nodded thoughtfully. "I think I have a solution, but you're not going to like it."  
"Joy. Why is it we don't seem to like a whole lot these days?"  
Halt chuckled. "Because we're at war, that's why."  
And that is how we ended up sitting on the backs of our mentor's saddles, holding onto them for dear life as we trotted along the road. I will admit that it helped keep our balance when we coughed, but it was far from comfortable. Remember how the saddle on Tiron wasn't made for side-saddle? Well Abelard's saddle was not only not made for side-saddle, but it was also made for only one rider. So I was basically keeping my balance purely by clutching onto Halt's shoulders as I bounced up and down with Abelard's movements. Sarah was having similar troubles off to my side, but we managed to stay on our respective seats until we started encountering our first people on the street. Soon after we joined a bigger road, we encountered three groups of travelers. At this point, Halt and Will dismounted to make it look like Tiron and Correr were using lead ropes, instead of using a follow command. When Halt remounted, he said to me, "Around now would be a good time to start looking pathetic."  
"What, with my dirty skirt, flushed face, and being forced to ride your horse? I don't think that it's possible."  
Halt looks over his shoulder at me. "I thought that apprentices only became this sarcastic after they graduate." he commented, and I smiled sweetly.  
"Nope!" Then I let my shoulders slump, lowered my eyelids halfway, hung my head a little, and stared off into the distance. "Pathetic enough?"  
Halt made a non committal noise and nudged Abelard's sides, starting us down the road. We weren't stopped as we passed more and more travelers, until we finally reached the gate to some sort of city. The air smelled like salt, and I hoped against hope that we might be at the shore. Sarah and I made ourselves look even more pathetic then we had been before as two guards stepped out onto the road from where they had been leaning against the walls of the arch that covered the road, leading into the city. They eyed us, clearly suspicious of us. As we neared, one of them called, "Ho there, you... four." They both held pikes, and were in half armor. I let out a small fake cough, trying to look pathetic, which quickly developed into a racking, whoop scattered cough. Halt and Will stop reigned in their horses, and the guards waited until I had finished coughing before they said, "What are you going to be doing in Seaport?"  
Halt put on an innocent air. "Well, my granddaughters," I could hear the disdain for the word in his voice, and I fought the urge to laugh, "here have whooping cough, and we were hoping to find a doctor here."  
"I've never seen the likes of you round here before." The other guard commented.  
"Yes, we live very far away."  
"Why'd you have four horses."  
"They didn't want to have to ride on the backs of our horses on the way back, when they were better." Will put in, and Halt nodded confirmation.  
The guards didn't look convinced. "How long are you going to be staying?"  
"As long as it takes for them to be cured." Halt said. The guards still looked a bit skeptical, and so Sarah compliantly let out a bout of coughs, and this seemed to be enough proof.  
"Alright, just don't be causing any trouble." The first guard said, and they stepped aside.  
"Thank you kind sirs." Halt said as we continued through the gate and into Seaport. As soon as we passed them,Halt urged Abelard into a trot. I tightened my grip as I started to cough again, and then drooped some more for show as we entered the grouping of buildings.  
The buildings at the outskirts were ramshackle structures, little rickety wooden things that I was fearful to even touch, as they looked ready to tumble down. The people who bustled about were all too obviously poor, their clothes dirty and torn, and often times holding out a hat for money. I wished that I could give them a coin, even a little one, but Halt and Will had control off all the coins, and they kept their purses (weird right? They're like these little cloth pouches, and they really don't look like purses, but that's what they're called) held tight.  
After a minute riding, the buildings arrived at the more normal houses. They were all made of wood, which explained why everyone was so careful with flames in this time period- one unfortunately placed spark and the fire wouldn't stop until there wasn't any town to speak of. They were sturdy looking, however, with thick boards and strong supports running up the sides. There were also Lincoln Log style houses, but they were not as common in the compressed spaces.  
The people here were clothed more like the people I'd seen at Redmont, although the men there tended to wear their hair longer and pulled into a sort of pony tail. To my surprise, we didn't draw any undue attention – in fact, if anything, people pointedly ignored us, as they did with any other travelers passing through.  
"Not very friendly, are they?" I commented.  
"Better than drawing attention." Halt hissed, fussing in an annoyed manner with his oddly nice shirt.  
We briefly passed through the really nice part of town, with large stone mansions lining the streets. Let it be noted, however, that when I say 'large' and 'mansion', I'm talking by the standards there. In Araluen, a two story house with several rooms on each floor is a mansion, a single story house with several rooms is a large house, and one or two rooms are average. Remember, this was in a time period where moving stones and/or lumber took a long time, and working the materials and then building the building took a long, long time. The people in that part of town not only wore fancy shirts and the like, but wore flashy colored tunics and the like, and the ladies wore elegant dresses. We passed out of there as quickly as possible, because when we were in that part of town, we definitely did attract attention – four travel worn individuals trudging through the fanciest part of town does that.  
Then we came to the docks. As its name implied, Seaport was not only by the sea, but included a port as well, so boats of every shape and size were lined up there. The biggest one loomed over the others, a large ship with three masts that was clearly equipped for human transport or cargo transport. The smallest ship that I could see was a tiny little canoe like contraption that looked ready to keel over and sink at any moment.  
"And this is why we're here." Halt told us, and I felt my stomach drop like a stone. I haven't got a problem with boats, but I had a fair idea of what kind of boat the amount of money Halt was willing to fork over would get us. I just hoped we wouldn't be forced to take the canoe.  
"Wonderful." Sarah said with a healthy amount of sarcasm. "Now we're going to be sick and forced to sit on a boat for a month or two. Wonderful."  
"Not a month." Will objected, "More like a week or two."  
"Cuz that's so much better." Sarah retorted.  
"In any event, you won't be sick. We're going to let you get better if at all possible. It wouldn't do to have you die because we didn't stop to have you treated." Halt told us. Sarah didn't look reassured.  
Soon afterwards, Tug and Abelard were turned around and we were heading back towards the middle class section of town. We chose a small tavern/inn and, after getting a nice stall for our horses (and sneaking Tiron an apple), we got two rooms on the first floor. Sarah and I just about collapsed as soon as we got inside. A combination of coughing and struggling to ride side saddle had absolutely exhausted us, not to mention having to look absolutely pathetic all the time. Our matching black hair splayed out on our respective beds, and we groaned together. I clutched with protective hands at my leg as it shifted from stinging to throbbing.  
"I didn't think riding a horse could hurt so much!" I moaned. "side-saddle – definitely not my riding style of choice."  
"Well, the fact that you can't stay on for a minute might have something to do with that." Sarah pointed out, and I turned my head just enough so that I could stick out my tongue at her.  
"Neither can you."  
"Touché." She replied, before we both fell silent, except for the occasional cough or two (or ten). I yawned hugely, and then there came a knock on the door.  
"Go away!" Sarah called, "Let us sleep in peace!"  
"Do you want to get better or not?" Came Halt's voice, and, after a moment's reluctant hesitation, we both got up.  
We stumbled down the hallway, which was dark because there weren't any windows and the lamps weren't yet lit, and emerged into the classy foyer and then into the bright sunlight. Halt and Will led us down towards the nicer side of town, until we came to our destination. We marched up the steps of a large house, where Will knocked sharply on the door. There was only a short pause before the door opened a crack, before swinging all the way open.  
Before us stood a very short (shorter than even me), stout little man, whose hair, or what little was left, was a dull silver. His eyes were wide and a large grin was spread across his face. "Why if it isn't Ha-" in an instant, Halt was over the threshold of the door and had his hand planted firmly across the little man's mouth.  
"It's good to see you two, Irvius, but right now we're not who we appear to be, alright?" Halt said in a low but still calm voice, and only a little intimidating. The man, whose eyes had grown wide, nodded quickly. Halt nodded in return and dropped his hand.  
Irvius reached down and straightened his tunic in a somewhat flustered manner. Then, looking back up, with no trace of any of the previous emotions on his face or in his voice, he said, "Is there something I can do for you gentlemen. And ladies, of course." Irvius added quickly, along with a little bow and a smile. I smiled back before starting to cough again. Irvius frowned. "Ah, I see. Do come in, and I'll see what I can do for you." His voice contained just a hint of an accent like Halt's.  
He stepped aside courteously, gesturing widely with his arm. Halt dipped his head in thanks and stepped inside, followed quickly by Will, Sarah and I. The thick oak door shut with a click, and the sound of the streets faded quite a bit. We were led quickly into a parlor with bright afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows. It was quite posh, like the furniture at castle Araluen, but presumably less of it. It's walls were smooth stone, without the rustic looking rough edges that were typical here. The floors were also stone, without any seeming irregularities in it. The windows let in bright light that bathed the fancily carved wooden table that sat in the middle of the room, about the right height for a coffee table. Five chairs sat ringed about it, each with a very fine design woven into it.  
"Please, please sit down." Irvius said, gesturing to five comfy looking chairs that were situated in a loose circle. We took our seats, and Irvuis sat in the remaining one. For a moment, there was silence, before, after glancing about to make sure there was no one else around, the short man said, "What's this all about, Halt?"  
"Irvius, I'm afraid we're in a bit of trouble."  
He let out a harsh laugh. "It seems you're always in some jam or another." Then he became serious once more. "But I feel that I may just know what it is you're talking about. Information travels faster than any horseman, it seems."  
Halt nods. "Then you will know just how much danger we're in, and I'm afraid that I've now dragged you into it, but only out of necessity."  
"Yes, this young lady here seems to have quite the nasty cough."  
"Both of them." Will corrected, and Irvius' eyes got a little wider than they already were.  
"Neither of them have ever had whooping cough before?" He exclaims, mouth agape.  
"Apparently." Will commented dryly.  
Irvuis recovered quickly. "Well, we'll just have to see what we can do. Just a moment please." He stood and hurried from the room, his gait having a slight limp I noticed. We watched him go, then Will asked, "Who is he?"  
"Irvuis." Halt replied smoothly.  
Will rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know that. But I mean how do you know him?"  
"Well you should have asked that then." Halt pointed out, and Will rolled his eyes again, though he was smiling slightly. "Irvuis is an old acquaintance of mine. He helped me get to Araluen from Hibernia when I first left home."  
"How?" Will asked, "And why have we come to him to have them treated if he helped you get out Hibernia?"  
Halt gave him a look. "How many questions are you going to ask before you let me answer one?" Will grinned sheepishly and gestured for him to continue. "Well, to answer both questions, Irvius helped me leave Hibernia by taking me aboard a ship he was taking to Araluen, and he brought me because he was currently treating a nasty cut that I had received trying to escape a group of armed patrolmen. He's a trained doctor."  
Will nodded. Sarah let out a false noise of astonishment. "You? Hurt? Never."  
Halt glared at her, and she smiled sweetly. Halt had just opened his mouth to say something when Irvius came bustling in, saying, "Alright, I think this should do the trick." A large number of glass or earthenware vials and bottles were clinking together in his arms, along with a large bowl and a mortar and pestle. I looked at the glass ones warily, as the contents looked less than appetizing.  
He pulled out a sheet of parchment from his shirt pocket, smoothing the wrinkles from it with as he sat and laid it out upon the table. Then, he began to mumble off ingredients, before sifting through his collection and pulling out a container, before he would dump a certain amount of each substance into it. I won't treat you to a list of the contents, not only because I can't remember them all, but because the ones I do remember weren't very pleasant. What we ended up with looked quite a bit like a mud puddle you might find in the sewer, and the smell was something atrocious. I saw that, as Sarah broke into a fit of coughs, she was fighting not to gag. I couldn't help but agree. This was worse than what Malcolm had given us.  
Irvius finished off the concoction with a pinch of a greenish powder and set it over a flame that was created by a small candle. Soon, an oddly colored steam began to emanate from the bowl, and the nasty smell intensified. Even Will and Halt were looking a little queasy now, although Irvius appeared unaffected. I'm fairly sure that I turned as green as the powder. For a while longer, the stuff cooked, Irvuis adding water every now and then. Then, he said, "That should about do it," and, to our relief, removed the bowl from the flame. Then, pulling out two small glasses, he poured the goop into each one until they were full to the brim. Then he handed one to me and one to Sarah. "Alright, drink up, and three days from now you'll be right as rain, guaranteed."  
If this cures me, I'm a monkey's uncle, I thought, and, at a glance shared with Sarah, I could tell she was thinking something very similar. Irvius was smiling at us expectantly, and so I forced out a "Thanks," that was echoed by Sarah, and then I eyed the contents once again. My eyes watered as a puff of the fumes wafted over my face. I blinked rapidly, then, shutting my eyes, downed it in one vile gulp. To my surprise, although the texture was still revolting, the taste was more like that of root beer that had lost all of its fizz. I was so surprised that I almost choked on the thick slime, and as soon as I and finished swallowing, I broke into a fit of heavy coughing. When I'd finished, I sat up and pushed my oddly black hair from my forehead, tucking it behind an ear.  
"Whoa, that almost tasted good." Sarah commented, with surprise. Irvius was grinning slightly.  
"Yes, the powder I add at the end gives it the flavor and robs it of its previous one. One of my more ingenious inventions, if I do say so myself." He informed us proudly. Then, a bit more modestly, he added, "Unfortunately, the consistency has to remain more or less the same, if the brew is to retain its potency."  
Halt stood abruptly. "It was nice to see you again, Irvius, but we need a good night's rest and then we must be off."  
Irvius objected almost before Halt finished his sentence. "No no no! You can't go gallivanting across countries without letting the medicine take effect! It will take much, much longer if you do!"  
"Well, we don't have three days, Irvius, and if you really do know what I'm talking about you'll understand that we must leave as quickly as possible." Halt explained irritably. Then he turned back to us. "Come, we need to get some rest."  
"Halt!" Irvius called, lunging forward and grabbing his arm as he started out of the room. "Halt, you listen to me! If you don't wait, those two won't just take longer to get better, they could well die! Especially on a boat with the moist sea air, as I assume that's how you will be leaving. They could start coughing, and not stop until they've no air left, and then they will suffocate!" His words, of course, were really comforting to Sarah and I.  
"Don't you think you're exaggerating a little bit?" Will said, rising from his chair.  
"I do not!" Irvius exclaimed, outraged. "I've seen it happen before my very eyes! They can't get any air, so they just try to cough without it, unable to breathe at all, and they collapse, dead!"  
"Halt, can we maybe just wait here a little while?" I put in, and Sarah nodded her head vigorously in agreement. He scowled in return.  
"A days travel lost can never be gained back." Halt retorted, and pulled his arm away from Irvius. "If we had the luxury of waiting, I assure you we would, but for now we have to g-"  
"Just stay for a day! Overnight, tomorrow, and then you can leave tomorrow night."  
There was a long silence as Halt stared at Irvius, and the little man bravely stared right back. Finally, Halt said, "Fine. But only until then."  
I had to fight the urge to gape. Halt, concede to anyone? It was a miracle! He didn't give us long to marvel, however. "But now, Irvius, we really must be going. Many things to do, and only so much daylight."  
Irvius stepped back, smiling. "Ah, Halt, you always were a sensible man. I understand that you're in a hurry, but believe me you won't regret this." We started towards the door, Irvius leading us as a courteous host. Then, just before he opened the door for us, he said, "Oh wait, I almost forgot!" He hurried back the way we had come, calling over his shoulder, "Just wait a moment, it won't take a second!" He disappeared, and we heard more clinking and a couple muffled curses, and then he rushed back, dumping a small parchment wrapped package in Will's hands. "For the coughing. It will get worse before it gets better, and their throats are going to start to hurt if they haven't already." I wished my throat hadn't started hurting yet! "These should help. There's about thirty, and I should think that it will tide you over." He turned to Sarah and I, who were looking nervous. "Peppermints." I grinned at Sarah. Much better than suspicious looking liquids.  
"Thank you Irvius." Halt said, and as the little man opened the door, he slid a small coin into his palm.  
"I don't need this Halt." Irvius said, trying to return it to him.  
"I know, but I only steal from people I _don't_ like." Halt told him, then quickly stepped through the door frame and then out into the road. I murmured a small "Thanks," on my way out, then quickly caught up with my mentor. Sarah was right after me, and Will came a moment later, busy sliding the package into a pocket.


	13. Chapter 13: Burning Down the House

**A/N: Hiya! So, yes, things are going to be more travel and less random drabbling about in places from here on out (well, there's one part, but...) Yah. Actually, I've only got four more pre-written chapters after this one, so at that point things will almost certainly start slowing down, as instead of just editing things, I will actually have to start spouting new material. Don't worry, I've got plans, but still. Slower. Any who, hope you like this chapter!**

**And, as I've never mentioned it before, I will ocassionally make up words, usually nouns being turned into adjectives, adjectives being turned into adverbs, etc. But, typically you can get the general idea, or at least I think so. And, also, I'm getting admittedly a little lazy with my edits, so quality may go slightly down before it goes up. Sorry bout that, I have midterms.**

**Farmer's Daughter: Haha, okay, sorry about any errors in my facts. Everything I know about horses and the riding of them comes from a total of five weeks at a ranch camp over the last three summers, so I can't really say I'm an expert. If I ever have the time to fix that (haha, I go to an IB school, not a chance) I will do so, but until that point, don't worry, it doesn't come up again. Also, have no fear, I think it's either the next chapter or the one after that where crushes will come into play. So... yeah. I think that covers everything you mentioned... :)**

We returned to the Inn in a timely manner, and Halt told Sarah and I to stay there, while he and Will went about their business. After a couple of half-hearted objections, which all ended up in coughs, Sarah and I retreated to our room. Bored, we each flopped onto our respective beds, which, I noticed, were uncomfortably low to the ground.  
"Ugh!" Sarah commented abruptly. "We forgot to get the peppermints from Will!"  
I groaned. "Great."  
"Wanna go see if we can find him?"  
"I don't know, they told us to st-" I broke off coughing. When I finished, I cleared my throat weakly and said, "Yeah."  
"K, lets go."  
We hopped up from our beds and quickly strode out the door. We went out into the lobby, then out the door of the Inn. "Now which way did they go…" I speculated, scanning the crowd and the streets beyond.  
"Maybe to the docks?"  
"As likely as anywhere." We set off a brisk walk, eager to get a hold of the little peppermint lozenges. The street now contained a lot more people than before, and without Halt and Will there to break a trail for us, we were forced to weave in and out of people, often getting jostled around by those not interested in slowing down. As we walked, I could think of little other than 1) the peppermints 2)the damn stinging in my leg and 3) the stupid high heels I was wearing. Every couple of steps, I would land poorly, and have the heel slip, sending my weight crashing onto the side of my foot which, as you may know, if pretty painful. So finally, fed up, I paused, reached down, and pulled off the stupid shoes, deciding to go on barefoot. I got my toes crushed a couple times, but it was better than those damn shoes.  
"This way?" Sarah called to me after a while moving down the main street. She was pointing down a side alley, which did in fact look vaguely familiar.  
"I think so!" I called back, shoving my way back to her, and together we ducked into the considerably less busy small road. I noted that Sarah too was holding her shoes. "Yeah, this looks right." We started down the virtually empty street, which was just barely visible in the slight glow of the setting sun that refracted into the alley. Our footsteps were silent, but, unfortunately, the rustle of our dresses wasn't, and the noise echoed against the walls of the buildings, along with the noise of the main road. When we came to the next crossroad, we looked at each other, shrugged, and turned right, and at the next one right, and the next one left, etc. We were just guessing, and as the alleys here were not gridded nicely like in cities back home, (home as in the other world) we were soon hopelessly lost in the seemingly endless network of alleys, and unfortunately, finding ourselves in what was clearly the shadier part of town. Finally, as we came to a particularly odd crossroad consisting of seven roads converging in one spot, Sarah finally told me, "Okay, let's just stop and admit that we're lost. There're lots of buildings here that have doors facing this way, let's just ask someone."  
I glanced at the buildings and then gave her a look. "Oh goody. Lets choose the murder's house, that's much better than the assassin's house."  
She gave me a shove. "Hey, don't talk like that. We're just in the poor part of town."  
"I've got nothing against poor people, but this isn't the poor part of town, this is the part of town where-" a shriek emanated from the house next to us. "Must I continue? We're in the place between the poor part of town and the middle class part of town – the dark part of town."  
Sarah looked from me to the house next to us, then back to me. "Well then what do you suggest we do?"  
"Um…" Suddenly, I realized that it was very close to being pitch black in the alley. "Try following any source of light?"  
"What source of light?" She asked me, and I looked around me.  
"Okay, so not a source of light. Let's try the sounds of the city."  
We listened carefully, and just barely could hear the clamor of the people on the streets. "This way." Sarah informed me. We started down the street that was directly to our right.  
The noises got louder and louder, and we sped up, eager to figure out how to get back and find Will with those peppermints, and get the hell out of this maze. But as we got closer, we slowed down, puzzled and a little concerned. The noises were much louder than seemed reasonable, and there was an awful lot of shouting. We exchanged worried looks, then sped up again, wanting to know just what's going on. Then, we both stopped dead as two things happened at once. First, we entered out into the main street. Second, a woman let out the most chilling shriek that I have ever heard.

The road was in chaos. Fires burned in two houses already, lighting the whole street with a reddish glow, and people in the streets were struggling to get away from them, while also avoiding the cloaked and masked figures that were rampaging through the streets, torches in their hands. Sarah and I staggered back into the side street, trying to stay away from the people who were stampeding down the street. One or two of them crashed past us, one of them crying out and one with the hem of their coat on fire. We peered around the corner, and watched as one of the masked figures took their torch and plunged it through the window of a small cobbler's shop. Then, turning, he plunged through the door of another building. The civilians were in complete panic, and I didn't really blame them. Many of the masked figures were grabbing anyone within reach and showing them a paper, before interrogating them, as far as I can tell from the way the people were babbling, though I couldn't make out their words. If they didn't answer the way they like, which most of them didn't, the masked figures would strike them, usually so hard that they fell unconscious, and leaving them to get trampled by others who were fighting to get out of the town.  
Sarah and I watched for a long time in silent horror, paralyzed with the carnage that was unfolding before us. The number of people was beginning to thin out, as many had either escaped or were unconscious. Almost all the buildings on the street had caught on fire now, and Sarah and I were forced to press against the building to our left as the one on our right started to become uncomfortably hot. We dared not move out into the streets, because, geniuses that we are, we'd left our weapons back at the inn, still strapped to our horses.  
"Sarah, if we stay here much longer, we're going to get cooked or caught!" I said as loud as I dared, just loud enough to be heard over the remaining screams and crackle of flames. Glass broke somewhere nearby as Sarah replied,  
"Well we can't go back in there!" she gestured behind her. "Well just get lost again and be cooked later as opposed to sooner! The buildings behind us are already starting to burn! There'll be no where to run!"  
I looked behind me, and sure enough, there were already buildings three back that were flaming, and they were beginning to breach across the alley to lick at the roofing on our side. The wood that I was pressed against was begging to feel warm.  
"We'll have to risk getting out there!" She called to me. "We can both run pretty fast – I bet we can weave through what's left of the crowd and get out without being stopped!"  
I looked behind me, then at the flames beginning to lick around the edge of the building right next to ours, and then out into the street. I nodded slowly. "Okay, on three. One, two-"  
"DEREK!" a huge man roared, striding purposefully down the street, right past our alley, his voice thick with an accent. I stopped mid- count, holding my breath just like Sarah. The man dragged behind him a much smaller man, very small indeed.  
"What is it, Alastair?" A man's voice came from perhaps five meters away. Sarah and I held perfectly still.  
"This man's seen 'em!"  
"N-No! I haven't seen no one, I swear!" With the addition of the voice, I recognized the small figure as Irvius.  
"Don't lie, little rat!" Alastair snarled, "Some passersby said that the four went into his house."  
"They lie! I've never seen them in my life!" Irvius lets out a small noise of fear as something happened that we couldn't see, then Derek, his voice so deep that, had it been louder, I'm sure that things would have started to shake, "Where, did, they, go?"  
"I don't know, I don't know I tell you!" Irvius' voice was little more than a squeak.  
I almost screamed as a powerful hand landed on my shoulder. I whipped around, smacking into Sarah as I did so, who was mirroring my action. I was just about to punch whoever it was grabbing me, before realizing that it was in fact Halt who had grabbed my shoulder.  
"I think it's about time we go now." He said softly but commandingly. Then, he stepped aside to reveal all three of our horses, plus Will astride Tug.  
"What about Irvius?" I asked, but it didn't need any answering as there came a cry from out in the street, and Derek bellowed, "MOVE TOWARDS THE NORTH!"  
"He'll be fine once he regains consciousness." Halt assured me, then gave me a shove towards Tiron.  
I quickly ran up and jumped astride Tiron, coughing as the smoke in the poorly ventilated alleyway quickly got to me. I realized that this might be an impediment, what with all the falling that accompanied it, and so I quickly straddled him, not caring about the damned skirt at the moment, and then bent over Tiron's neck, gripping his mane with my hands and his neck with my elbows. He rumbled deep in his chest, then let out a little coughing sneeze.  
"This way!" Will announced as whirled Tug about, galloping away down the flaming alley. I pressed my knees into Tiron, and we launched forward, with the sound of Dolar and Abelard close on our heels.  
Will led us without fail, not even hesitating at crossroads, and our horses didn't shy even slightly as flames licked at buildings all around us. The fire was moving fast now, as a slight breeze had picked up, and we urged our horses to even greater speeds. Then, suddenly, we were out on the shore, the docks right ahead. Will continued his headlong rush towards the boats, and we followed, until he ran Tug straight up onto a large cargo ship without slowing. I raised my eyebrows but followed, grateful as the heat and noise of the city receded behind us. As soon as Abelard, who had been bringing up the rear, was on board, the ramps was pulled in, by who I couldn't see, and I could feel the boat move underneath Tiron's feet as the boat's crew pushed off from shore. As Tiron came to a halt, I could hear a drum beat begin underneath our feet, and the jerking motion of the boat grew more pronounced as the unseen rowers began to row. To my surprise, multiple other boats along the docks began to push off, their drums coming to life as well. I decided to just let it be, sure it was either Halt or Will's work in some form. Tiron was sweating profusely, as was I, so I happily dismounted and wobbily stood, holding his reigns in my hand. Then, just wishing for something recognizable, I put his reigns in a safety knot, just like back at camp, before leaning my forehead against the smooth skin above his eye and stroking his soft nose. He nudged me affectionately, before he gently nosed my pocket, looking for an apple. I laughed. "No apples today boy!" I exclaimed, pulling back to look him in the eye.  
_I know, he said, I just wanted to cheer you up._  
"Well it worked." I murmured, pressing my forehead to his once again, shutting my eyes. I liked this new talking Tiron.  
After a moment of the throbbing drum being the only noise, I felt Halt's hand once more on my shoulder. "Are you hurt?"  
"Nah, not really. Just surer than ever that whoever invented the dress was a complete imbecile. I've got chafing like you wouldn't believe from riding like that."  
Halt said, nothing, just went on, and I heard him ask a similar question of Will, who answered negative for both him and Sarah. Then, once again, all was silence, except for the drum beat and the calls of the sailors on the top deck.  
"Well, no rooms for us, so I suggest you either find yourself I spot in the cargo hold or make yourself comfy here." Halt informed us. "I personally am going to see if there's anywhere up here that will be good for sleeping."  
I was almost temped to sleep above decks, before remembering how irritable Halt became when he was on boats. "I think I'll look for somewhere below decks." I said, and Sarah quickly concurred, while Will decided to stay above decks. Risky, but I could understand it. Since there was a ladder into the cargo hold, I had to leave Tiron on the deck, but he laid down comfily (it's not particularly safe for horses to be standing on a boat), and blew through his nose, seeming to say, _I'll be good, you go on ahead._  
Sarah and I found a nice cozy corner in the hold, where some blankets were being transported to Galica, our destination. In fact, there must have been a hundred blankets, meaning that we had plenty to protect us from the cool autumn sea air, as well as plenty to make nice mattresses for ourselves. We made ourselves little niches, then curled up, dresses and all.  
"Hey Sarah." I yawned, stretching hugely.  
"Yeah?"  
"Do you still have your shoes?"  
She let out a little laugh. "Nah, and I can't say I'm sad about it. You?"  
"Nah."  
Then, blowing out our little lantern, we both allowed sleep to consume us.


	14. Chapter 14: I Hear Music

**A/N: Alrighty guys, so this chapter is so massively long, that FanFiction won't even save it in the same file. So... two part chapter! Yays! May post them together, might post them separately, I'm not quite sure, but either way... That's just how it's gonna have to be. **

**Notes!**

**FarmersDaughter: Okay, so an IB school is basically a school that only offers AP courses, except they're harder because they're IB courses. You're required to do a personal project in sophomore year, and write a 3,500 - 5,000 word extended essay in the summer between Junior and Senior year. No electives, just academia of one sort or another. Must be fluent in a foreign language by Senior year. You get kicked out if you get two C's or one D after sophomore year. So... yeah. Pretty intense. Oh, and lots of homework and projects. If you have any other questions about that, I'm happy to rant some more, believe me. And no, the length of your comments doesn't bother me - in fact, really long reviews make me go "Oh yay, they had lots to say!" So... :)**

**Tessi: You may be onto something there my friend *wicked grin* you catch on fast.**

**(And on a completely unrelated note, _who's excited for The Hobbit?!_ I am soooooo excited, going to see it Saturday!)**

**But, after that moment of fangirling, let the story continue!**

* * *

"You don't really,_ actually_ mean that we lost everything except our Ranger gear, do you? Because I am really not cool with wearing a dress for the rest of the voyage." Will, Sarah, and I were sitting on the deck of the ship, talking, while Halt was off to the side… well, you know.

"Unfortunately. We got back just in time to get our horses, as the stable was already on fire - had we been any later they would have just busted out. The Inn was already up in flames, so the only things we have left are what were in our saddle packs, which happened to be your knives and anything else you had in there. Your bow was in my bags, Kathryn, so no problem with that." Will told us, and Sarah groaned.

"But we don't even have shoes!" She exclaimed, showing him one bare foot from under the hem of her skirt. "And it's going to get cold soon!"

Will shrugged. "Sorry, there's nothing I can do. They aren't shipping any clothes."

I wrinkled my brow as a thought came to me. "Wait. Will, don't you have, like, a sewing kit of sorts."

"One could call it that, yes," He replied, "Why do you ask?"

"Cuz, what if we could take these dresses and make them into something resembling a pair of pants and a shirt. It'd be a heck of a lot better than a skirt, if still a little stand out-ish in a sneaking situation." I expected him to laugh, but Will actually looked like he was thinking about it. Then, slowly, he nodded.

"We could, at least, continue your training to a degree, and it would be easier for you to ride or run at a moment's notice."

"Yes!" Sarah exclaimed. Then, she suddenly looked a whole lot less enthusiastic. " I suppose we'll have to sew it by hand, right?"

Will gave her a look. "As opposed to..?" Sarah gave him a look back, before remembering that nothing was manufactured by machine here.

"Ah, you're right," she amended, voice sounding slightly nervous. "How silly of me. But it probably wouldn't go quickly, and what would we wear when we were sewing the skirt into pants if it took us multiple days?" Will opened his mouth, then shut it. We all sat in thoughtful silence for a moment, before Sarah snapped and said, "I've got it!" We looked at her expectantly. "Well, it won't be attractive, but they've got some burlap bags down there that they aren't using, and we could cut the bottoms out, then use the part we cut out to make loops around the edge of the bag, and take some rope and use them like a belt, so we could have a makeshift skirt while we work on the pants. Not comfy, not stylish, but they'll work." I nodded my agreement.

"I've never liked style much anyways." Will said. "Wait here, I'll go get the 'sewing kit', as you call it, and maybe Halt's too if he'll let me have it, and you can get to work." He moved over to Tug's saddle bags, right next to where Tug was lying languidly in the warm sun (Horses usually have to be all tied up on boats, because they can fall and break their legs, but on this boat there wasn't a hold for horses, so the four just had to lie down for the entire time, poor things. And they took up a lot of the space on the deck) and rummaged around in the saddle packs, until he pulled out a small wooden box a lot like the first aid kit, and he tossed it to us. "You just go on down, I'll see if I can get Halt's too." We called our thanks then headed into the hold.

"Well, I'm excited about not wearing skirts, but I'm really not excited about burlap clothes in the mean time. Or about sewing." Sarah informed me.

"Well…" I shrugged. "Sewing machine – fine, it involves something close to danger in the fact that you can stab yourself all the way through your finger, and is somewhat similar to a power tool. Hand sewing – tedious, meticulous if you want it to hold together, and the worst danger is pricking yourself. Not quite as exciting."

"Here's Halt's kit – I've also told the sailors not to come down here, so if you need anything you're going to have to come up!" Will called, and there was a clack as the wooden box smacked against the wooden planks that were the bottom of the ship.

"Thanks!" We called together, and the door shut again, leaving us with just the lanterns that we have to use for light down here all the time. "Well, might as well get started on those burlap bags." I said to Sarah, picking one up with my fingertips.

"Goody."

* * *

"Well? Whaddaya think?" Sarah and I were standing in our more or less similarly shaped pairs of pants, which had taken us the entire week to complete. They were very voluminous, kind of like the ones that Jasmine wears in that movie Aladdin, and, of course, matched our tops, my outfit white and Sarah's light green. In fact, we probably looked a bit like Jasmine, what with our dyed hair and tanned skin from weeks of training and running. We had both modified our dress tops to be T-shirts with short sleeves, although the pants we had left long because we feared that making them any shorter wouldn't work out well somehow. And we were not wearing corsets any more, thank goodness. I swear I had a bruise all around my midsection, and my core muscles still ached. The way we had to modify the skirt's waistline was awkward, because the dress had originally been put on over the head, which, of course, doesn't work with pants, so we had to make an impromptu sort zipper that was tied together at the waist. It wasn't elegant, but it worked, and that's all that mattered. The billowy effect of the pant legs was because we were wary of cutting off too much material and having to wear the scratchy burlap all the way across the sea, but they didn't get in the way either, so it all worked out. And they were pretty comfy too.

Much to our relief, our cough had disappeared three days after we left, just as Irvius had said, and, just as he had said, it did get worse before it got better, so there were no, I repeat no, peppermints left. However, my leg was hardly bothering me at all now, as the long period of rest I had given it had allowed it to heal more rapidly than before.

"Not bad for a first try." Halt announced. He and Will had both changed back into their ranger clothes, which they apparently kept in their saddle bags. I was jelly.

"They actually work!" Will marveled, and we scowled.

"So glad you have so much confidence in us." Sarah remarked dryly, and Will gave her a look.

"Why can't women just accept a compliment graciously?" He asked no one in particular, before adding, "But really, they're not bad."

Above us, the man in the crow's nest called something I couldn't make out down to us, and a cheer rose from the sailors who were lounging about the deck (they only rowed while leaving the port), who quickly jumped up and started to move about the sails, those who didn't rushing to the bow of the ship. "Well, that means we'll be landing soon." Halt said matter-of-factly, and moved over to Abelard to make ready his saddle bags.

Will looked us over again. "Well, those certainly are going to raise a fuss in Galica, let me tell you." I looked down at the clothes I had worked so hard on this past week, and almost laughed. He had no idea. I imagined his expression at seeing some of the girls in my class during the summer, with low cut tank tops and short shorts, and _did_ laugh. "What's so funny?" he asked, and I laughed again.

"You wouldn't understand." I told him, and went over to Tiron.

_Well it's about time!_ He exclaimed, adding a blow through his nose to accentuate his point as he lifted up his head.

"Sorry, I couldn't come out for very long, those burlap skirts weren't very secure and I was scared that…ya know…"

_Excuses excuses._ He said, still giving me _the look_. "

Well, don't you see how marvelous a thing I ended up with? These nice new pants are really comfy, and not a skirt." He snorted again but said nothing, laying his head back down from where he had laid the entire trip laying. I patted his nose and gave his ears a scratch, which received a little flick from them, then prepared my saddle bags. The men went down to the oars to slow our speed as we entered the docking area, the only ship sailing in. All the other boats that had left the port with us had split off an hour or so after our departure. There was a little jerk as the oars entered the water and just sat there, dragging in the water to pull off some of the speed. The rolling of the waves faded as we entered a little cove, and instantly our horses regained their feet, stretching out muscles stiff from sitting in one spot for so long. Tiron butted my arm accusingly, and I gave him a light shove on the shoulder in response before gently sliding the saddle pad, then the saddle, then the saddle bags onto his back, and sliding a bit into his mouth, which he took happily. Then, just like before, I tied a safety knot.

_I don't need that. _He told me. _I'm not some dumb gelding whose gonna break his leg in his own reigns._

"I know," I murmured, "It's mostly for me." He tossed his head in acknowledgement, and I patted his nose again.

"Gonna be good to ride again, huh?" Sarah said, leading Correr slowly up to us, and our two horses greeted each other happily, finally able to see each other properly.

"You better believe it. I haven't gotten to ride for much longer than five minutes in ages! Not properly, anyways."

"Yeah, the pants are going to help." We were silent for a while, watching the land slowly get closer. Then, Sarah continued, "Hope we don't have to hide for a while – these aren't exactly easy clothes to go unseen in."

"What? You mean that white and light green don't blend into a forest background? I'm shocked!"

"We'll get you new pairs of clothes as soon as we reach a town of reasonable size that's a reasonable distance from here." Halt told us, Abelard following him placidly. I looked around for Will and saw him sneaking an apple to Tug, heaven knows where he got it, while carefully watching Halt, ready to snatch the apple away if Halt was to turn around. I smothered a laugh and nudged Sarah with my elbow discreetly. When she looked at me, I jerked my head a tiny bit towards where Will was, making the motion look like I'm cracking my neck, as I said, "Oh good. I was worried about having to wear these clothes all that much longer, though I must say I'm glad to have our hard work have some payoff at least."

There must have been either something in my voice or something in Sarah's or my face, or maybe all three, because Halt raised one eyebrow and slowly looked over his shoulder. By the time his gaze alit on Will and Tug, however, both of them were looking up at him, apple nowhere to be seen, with a perfect look on innocence on their faces. He examined them for a while, then sniped, "I know you're up to something whenever you look that innocent. No apprentice I've ever trained looks that innocent," before turning back to us. "We really need to work on concealing emotions with you two. Exceedingly poor."

"No, you're just exceedingly good a reading expressions." I retorted, and he shot me a glare. I smiled as sweetly as I dared.

"Ho ship!" came the call from down below.

The captain of the ship, which we had seen very little of during the entire voyage came out and called down, "Ho docks!" There was a little jerk as the boat ran up against the land.

"What be your cargo?" Came from below. The response was lengthy to say the least, and was ended with "Two men, two ladies, and four horses." I tried not to scoff at the word 'ladies'.

"Permitted to land, on the agreement that you can pay a tax of thirteen crowns and a docking fee of a crown a day!"

"Agreed!" The loading plank was dropped down, and the men started down into the hold to begin unloading their wares. After a questioning look at the captain, we were allowed to lead our horses down the plank and onto the wooden structures that stuck out of the water. They were rickety, and I was certain that at any moment they were going to collapse under the weight of four horses, but, by some miracle, they held, and we made it onto solid ground again. As it turned out, the place where we docked was a little smaller than Seaport, but just as busy. Our interesting appearance turned a few heads, but we managed to get out of town without being stopped by anyone. As soon as we got out of the district where there were a large number of people, we mounted our steeds (straddling, not side-saddle, thank goodness!) and started off at a canter. Tiron moved notably more easily without my bags to weigh him down, and so I supposed that losing them wasn't all bad. It was a relatively easy day compared to our other days on the run, as the Scotti (from Picta of all places; how are the two names related at all?) weren't right on our tails. However, as the sun was dropping below the horizon and we were entering the forest, Will asked us, "Through the night?"

Before we even got a chance to give our input, Halt said, "We've done nothing but sleep for two weeks, we can make it through the night." And so, with a sigh, Sarah and I resigned ourselves to a long ride in the moonlight. As if having to keep riding without stop wasn't bad enough, it started to drizzle as we rode, and before long our makeshift clothes were soaked through thoroughly. Even Will and Halt seemed pretty miserable and cold in the late autumn rain. Then, thinking we just weren't miserable enough, Mother Nature decided that it needed to pour, and when I say pour, I mean soak you through in a second, flash flood scale pour. If it had been snow, it would have been a blizzard. The wind picked up too, making each little drop sting. I huddled down over Tiron's neck, clothes plastered to my skin, wind making me shiver, and hair strewn every which way, rivulets of water running down my face and neck, and determinedly stayed there, saying nothing, trying to convince myself that being miserable and having a head start was better than making camp and being dead in a couple of days because of our lack of a head start. The lightning started some time a few hours afterwards. Every couple of minutes, a flash of lightning would briefly illuminate the world, showing the water that was suspended in the air, and the three figures of my companions, Sarah with her hands tucked under her arms for warmth, Halt and Will with their cowls up and heads bowed, and our four horses plowing unstoppably onward, manes plastered down and eyes half shut to protect from the pounding rain that threatened to temporarily blind them. Then, the light would be gone, replaced by the deep rumble of thunder which, much to my relief, came after quite a number of seconds, meaning that it was a couple of miles away, instead of right over us. When I reached forward to pat Tiron's neck, I was surprised to feel him shivering just like me. It had never occurred to me that horses could shiver. As the morning came, the lightning and thunder passed, and the rain lightened to your typical every day rain, instead of Armageddon class rain. A faint gray glow was able to be seen as the sun rose on the other side of those clouds, and I was glad for the ability to see once more. The feeling of the rain and not being able to see, especially with Tiron moving underneath me, had been disconcerting to say the least.

"Can we stop now?" Sarah moaned, "I'm tired and cold and wet!"

"Me too." I added. Halt though about it for a moment, examining the sky through the canopy of trees.

"I suppose so. No sense in exhausting you."

"Yes!" Sarah and I chorused, more sigh than cry, and pulled Tiron and Correr off to the side of the road, a little ways into the trees, until it became fairly hard to see the road, a good indicator that the same could be said about us from the view point of our pursuers. Then, we veritably collapsed from our saddles. I was tired enough that I had to hold onto Tiron's saddle to keep from falling. He was panting and shaking, looking utterly miserable. I loosened his girth, to which he sighed gratefully, but couldn't take his saddle all the way off in case of an emergency. Then, as I examined just how wretched Tiron was looking, with his soaked hair, and with the saddle pad literally dripping, I decided that I could weather out Halt's wrath, and that if there really was an emergency, I could ride him bareback, and removed the saddle all together, laying the saddle and pad out to dry. I had to leave his bit in though, as I was no good at steering with just my legs, but it was made of leather and hadn't soaked up any water.I patted his nose, pulling out the foldable bucket that I kept in his saddle packs and setting it under a stream of water that was flowing steadily off of a branch high above, catching the rain and filling up with surprising speed. I let out a jaw splitting yawn, and leaned against my horse, who gave me a little comforting nudge.

"Ya did good, Tiron," I told him, "I'm impressed. More than a full day of a canter, in the rain, and the wind, and the thunder." He nickered softly, but said nothing. When the bucket was all the way full, I pulled it out from under the stream and put it in front of Tiron. He eagerly sucked from it, lapping up every last drop. I started to go over to refill it, when he let out a snort. I turned, and saw, no joke, this horse with his head tipped up, just letting the stream of water go straight down his throat. It was so ridiculous, that I laughed out loud. He stopped for a moment, letting the stream run down his nose, and said, _Well, it works, doesn't it?_

"I suppose it does." I replied, patting his nose, before wandering casually back over to the others. Halt and Will were talking softly, and Sarah was just approaching.

"I call last watch." I said, and Sarah gave me a look.

"I call second watch." She said, which pretty much summed up the best watches in a situation like this. I had the better one though. The thought made me smile just a little bit.

"Alright, I'll take the first watch, now get along." Halt said, oddly hurried, which made me curious. However, I was too exhausted to pursue the matter, and followed Sarah a little ways away before collapsing on the soft layer of fallen leaves from the last year, and some new ones from this year. In the dim light, I could just barely make out her figure as we shifted around trying to get comfy. I lay down, resting my head on my arm, and promptly started to shiver as water dripped steadily onto me in a very annoying fashion. I rolled to one side, then the other, but even under the trees, there was no escaping the incessant rain. Finally, fed up, I stood, went over, got Tiron's sopping wet saddle, and got out our tent. "C'mon, help me set this up. I don't care what Halt says, I don't have a cloak and I am staying in a tent." In under a minute, we were laying in a nice dry tent, and a minute after that, I was out cold, no pun intended.

* * *

"C'mon, get up, I'm tired." Will grumbled, grabbing me by the ankle and partially pulling me from my nice warm tent.

"Oh, come on, it's not like you're getting any sleep anyways!" I begged, but Will shook his head.

"No sneaking out of it, it's you're turn, now don't be such a girl."

"Oh, thanks guys, now you've woken me up!" Sarah moaned, sitting up groggily in the semi-darkness that the heavy clouds produced.

"Sorry." We both replied, and I scooted the rest of the way out of the tent.

"Well, I'm not getting back to sleep anyways, so I might as well come with you." Sarah said, rubbing her eyes, "But I'm not happy about it."

"Well, if neither of you are going to be using it, can I-"

"As long as you pack it up afterwards." Will was in that tent in an instant.

"You owe me." Sarah told me, "I was sleeping perfectly fine until you two bozos woke me."

"Hey, I wasn't worried because it's usually hard to wake you up with a blowhorn." She rolled her eyes, but said nothing as we settled next to each other, watching the road carefully. The rain was just barely drizzling at that point, and as we sat there it stopped all together, leaving only the noise of rain drip, drip, dripping off the trees and onto the soft earth. My eyes scanned the area carefully, ears perked for any noise that would betray a Scotti trying to sneak up on us. I could feel myself threatening to fall asleep, like always, but, this time, I started making a hard equation in my head, something that would hold my attention and keep me from sleeping. I would have to be alert to solve it, it was really hard for me. It was a sum of a finite arithmetic series which, though I could do it easiily enough on paper, was pretty tricky in my head. It was also helpful for watching – when I am deep in thought, my eyes don't focus on any one thing, but they will flick right over if there's any motion what so ever. As I realized just what I was doing, I almost laughed. _I'm such a nerd_, I thought. _Doing math to keep from dozing off_.

I don't know just how long it was when the sun suddenly burst from the clouds, but when it did, the view was spectacular. Almost all the leaves in the forest had turned their colors, and the moisture left behind from the rain caught the sunlight, making it look as if every tree was aflame, literally. Each individual raindrop was visible on the leaves above us, looking like a diamond. The whole world looked as if someone had taken a Bedazzler (do you remember that machine?) and put see through jewels everywhere. Sarah and I gasped softly at the sudden lighting of the world, revealing the spectacular view. When I was finally able to tear my gaze away, I looked at Sarah, smiling broadly. Then, my eyes widened as I realized that I saw lines of black running across my vision, obstructing my vision, and making it appear as if Sarah was cracking. I rubbed my eyes, smile fading, and looked again. The black lines were still there. I looked around… and the lines disappeared. Blinking I looked back. There was still a line running jaggedly across the contours of Sarah's face, and down her shirt, all over… Then I laughed. Sarah's hair had returned to mostly brown over night. But the dye had to go somewhere.

"Sarah!" I exclaimed, "You're clothes…!" then laughed again.

She looked down and let out a small exclamation of surprise. "How…?"

"You're hair's gone back to normal, but the water made the dye run down onto your clothes. There's a line of it on your face too."

She quickly brought a hand across her face, looking incredulously at the black liquid that appeared on her hand. Then she looked at me and let out a bark of laughter. "You too!" she told me. I brought my hand across my brow, and found that it too came away with a coating of black. At a closer look, I found that my shirt now had a network of black lines running down it, until about half way down, where it all just blurred into a grayish color. It honestly wasn't very funny, in fact, it probably wasn't funny at all, but we hadn't been very well rested, and we were on the run from evil Pictians, Scotti, whatever, and it was more of a laugh that came from a need to not frown anymore. Laugh or cry, isn't that the phrase?

"What's so funny?" Will asked, rubbing his eyes at the sunlight that came streaming into them. His hair was back to its light brown color, but, much to our disappointment, the stains that ran across his cloak looked like they were put there on purpose. When he saw our shirts, however, he too let a small smile flit across his face. "Oh yes, you two are the height of fashion now."

"Aren't we?" I said, standing and brushing off my pants. "Well, that's all for my watch, I'ma go and eat what little fresh-ish bread is left in my pack and get ready to take off. Poor Tiron, he's gonna have to put up with a damp saddle pad I think."

"No fair!" Sarah objected, "That was, like, an hour, and my watch was, like, three hours!"

"Well, everyone's up, so no need for a watch." I said as Halt rolled to his feet, apparently woken by our jabbering, as he told us dryly. And so it was, all our horses complaining with soft nickers as we set their virtually saturated pads on their back, and then their saddle. When I put his saddle on top, it made a squish noise. "Sorry boy." I whispered, and he flicked his ears. "I'll give you a good brushing down tonight. Or tomorrow morning, depending on when we stop for rest." Then I swung up onto his back, which produced another squish. I winced in sympathy as we took off.

I tried to ignore the chorus of squishes as all the cantering horses had their saddle pads started to wring themselves out with the motion of their drumming hoofs. The sun flickered behinds throughout the first half of the day, but it didn't start to rain again, which was a relief. Then, as we were eating small saddles while slowed to a trot, the sun broke out for good, and we began to dry out. We all looked bedraggled in the extreme, but I noticed that Sarah was smiling a little now, as was Will, and Halt looked less… foreboding. I felt a lot lighter in mood too. The sun was out, we had a good lead on the Scotti, and no one was injured anymore. All in all, things were almost normalish.

We stopped before the sun went down, and set out the horses' saddle pads out in a patch of sun in the trees that wasn't visible from the road, to let them dry out, before Halt and Will gathered us around. Halt produced a map from inside his cloak, rolling it out on the only slightly moist dirt in front of us, lit by the dying sun, and then stabbed one of his knives into two opposite corners of the map. He pointed to a point on the top of Gallica, in a place right next to a peninsula sticking up into the Stormwhite Sea. "This is where we are right now." Then, using his finger, he drew an invisible line along the curve of the Sea, until he reached halfway into Teutlandt. "We are going to follow the general shape of the sea here, and hope we can lose the Scotti along the way. Then, when we get to this point, we're going to veer through Teutlandt, and into the Durals, and right here-" at this point he touched a spot right about in the middle of the line of the mountains, just inside the line of the Eastern Steppes "-is Mt. Norovanaya. It's not going to be a short or easy trip, but hopefully it will lose our pursuers, and the others will be there too. Most likely we will be the last ones to arrive, due to our delays, but they won't have left yet."

"How long will we be traveling, exactly?" Sarah asked, not sounding too hopeful.

"Well, judging by the fact that we got to Seaport in a week with injuries and other delays, I'd judge that without injuries it would have taken… three days. So… just under a month." Halt told us, and we groaned.

"A month?" Sarah complained.

"Are you sure?" I added.

"No. It could take longer because of the mountains."

We groaned again. "Not fun." Sara grumbled.

"Try sailing to Nihon Ja some time." Will intoned, "That's a month on a boat without any good food. Easy."

We fell into silence as we all pondered the previous conversation. We went about our business, rubbing down horses and such, before returning one at a time to where the map was laid out. Then, without warning, Halt said, "Alright, both of you, up." We stood, our eyes filled with questions. "Now, this is the most interesting little practice session I believe that I have ever come up with. I have always wanted to try it, but never had the time or need to do so. However, the skills it teaches could very well be critical in the next couple months, so I have decided to try it out."

"What is it?" Sarah and I chorused, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and fear.

And that is how we ended up with our wrists bound and tied to a tree branch.

"Oh, yes, very creative. You tied us to a tree. Masterful." Sarah said, who, unfortunately for her, was tied closer to the trunk, where the branch was higher up, so she had to stand on tip toe.

"You'll be grateful when this actually happens to you and you've already had practice." Halt told her, as he finished off the knot that was holding my wrists to the tree.

"Yeah, but you made it sound all brand new, like, 'whoa, check out what Halt came up with!' not like, 'Wow, Halt ties his apprentice to a tree.'"

"No, they would say that I tie my apprentice and my apprentice's apprentice to a tree." He corrected, and after sorting through all of the apprentices mentioned, Sarah rolled her eyes in retort, but didn't say anything. "Now, Will and I are going to be over there, watching you, but, of course, you won't see us. The situation is that all the guards who captured you have fallen asleep, and you're trying to escape. Dinner will be served when you have done so." Halt said, giving us the premise, before the pair each took a couple steps back and melted completely into the background. Sarah and I were completely silent for a moment, just looking at each other, with a mixture or consternation, leftover surprise, annoyance, and puzzlement. Then, as one we started straining against the ropes, testing their strength. We both lifted our legs off the ground, putting out full weight on the ropes, but quit as soon as it was evident that they weren't breaking, because the strain they put on our wrists was excruciatingly painful. It crunched your tendons and bones and nerves all together... well, I'll just leave that description lie. Then, slightly more creatively, I wrapped my hands about the small stretch of rope between my hands and the branch - which Halt had left, saying that, although he normally wouldn't do it, that a guard late at night, in the scenario where they would all be asleep, that slack would probably be left - and hung on that, which was considerably less painful, although twisting around did make the ropes tighten a bit, and swung side to side. Still no effect.

"Well, this isn't going to work." I murmured, and Sarah nodded, looking thoughtful. We both stared forward into the depths of the trees, the setting sun dancing through the treetops, which were tousled in a gentle breeze. I shivered, wishing that we hadn't lost our cloaks back in Araluen. It wasn't that cold, per say, but it was definitely foreshadowing that autumn was on it's way.

"I've got it!" Sarah yelped suddenly, wrapping both her hands about the slack in the rope just like I did. Then, after a couple back and forth swings, she swung herself upside down, looping her knees over the branch, so that one leg was on either side of her hands. She winced, grunting a curse, and I saw the skin about her bonds turn bone white, and I wrinkled my brow in confusion. "What on earth are you trying to do?" I asked her, my own fingers scrabbling uselessly at the knots, which were much to tight to untie in my restricted position.

"This." She said, face already red from hanging. She slid her legs slowly back towards her, so she was basically in jackknife position, (for you yoga fans out there) bent double in the middle with her shins resting on the branch, hands by the edge of her boot, which came up to mid-calf. It wasn't comfortable at all, as I could tell, as she cursed a bit, starting to bounce her right leg up and down. Whatever she was doing, she at least wasn't hanging upside down anymore, so she wouldn't be passing out. For a moment, I was fairly sure she'd completely lost her marbles, before I saw something emerging from her boot, very slowly. I gasped as I recognized the hilt of a knife, and her grasping fingers wrapped around it, before she let her body drop back into a standing position.

"Well. You've gotten more flexible." I stated,and was silent for a moment, before bursting out, "What up with the knife in the boot?!"

She grinned broadly. "Clever, no? All the characters in my books have them, so why not me?" The blade was starting to cut through the fibers of the rope, despite her awkward cutting position.

"But I thought you lost you knives?" I exclaimed as the knot binding her to the tree snapped, letting her hands dropped down, and relieving her from her tiptoe stance. She let out a sigh of relief, before starting at the bonds that held her hands and answering me.

"Lets just say I have it on permanent loan from one of those crates in the hold of that ship." She said, and when I let out a noise of surprise, she said, "C'mon, we're in a story book now! Who cares about one little blade when the whole of Araluen's at stake?"

I thought about that for a moment, then conceded. "I guess."

Sarah finished freeing herself, and, after rubbing her wrists a bit, started on my bonds. They went considerably faster, because of her freedom of movement, and so I was down and free in no time. We looked around, waiting for Halt and Will to come out. "Hey! We're done!" Sarah called. There was no response. We looked around. "C'mon, I'm hungry!"

"Have you really escaped yet?" came Halts voice from the shadows.

"Yes! Yes we have!"

"Well then, you'd be alright without food and water on your way back to us if you were captured."

I scowled. "Fine, Mr. Demanding." I jogged quietly over to Tiron and snatched some food from his saddle packs, along with my water skin and the tent. Then, handing the tent to Sarah, and keeping the rest, said, "Okay, _now_ we're out."

There was a hesitation, then Halt and Will emerged. "Next time, we're going to pose as captors and you'll have to escape from us when we wake up." Will told us, and Sarah and I groaned.

"Sounds like great fun, can we eat now?" I asked, and Halt grumbled something about not being grateful before moving over to the fire while Will went to catch us some meat.

True to his word, the next day, after a grueling day of traveling through a lightning storm in a pine forest, we found ourselves with out hands tied behind our backs, our feet tied, and Sarah and I tied together, back to back. Then, Halt and Will melted into the forest, with the warning of, "When you escape, you're going to have to _really_ escape from us."

Instantly, my hands were at Sarah's wrists, struggling to untie her. "Got any plans on how to escape after we're untied?" I asked.

"Run?" she replied, and I laughed.

"I suppose..."

"Oh, and your horses are off limits." Halt's voice came through the dripping of the tree's leaves upon the ground.

"Damn!" Sarah commented, slumping as I finally freed the first knot that bound her wrists, and started on the second. I freed her wrists finally, and she started on mine. We sat, looking thoughtful. Then, I swear a light bulb lit up above my head.

"Hey Sarah." I leaned back and whispered in her ear. "Our horses are off limits... but theirs aren't."

Sarah paused in untying me, thinking. "They'll buck us." she hissed back.

I glanced furtively into the trees. "No they won't - because I remember their passwords." I said, fighting to keep from grinning. I whispered them softly to Sarah, who had just finished ridding me of my bonds.

"How do we get the other ties off without them knowing we've freed our hands yet?" I asked softly.

Sarah thought a moment, then said, "We could look like we were kneeling, trying to lean outwards and break the ropes, but we're really untying the ankles."

"Pretty good. Worth a shot, since I've got nothing better." I replied. We did so, making it look like we were struggling to stand while still bound. carefully relieving ourselves of our bonds. Then I felt a cold metal piece on my palm. "I've got the knife." Sarah murmured.

"I've really got to get one of those." I mumbled.

"Count of three?"

"Yep."

"One."

"Two."

Then both of us together - "THREE!" Sarah brought up her arm and severed the rope that held us together in one clean slice. Then, we were up and away, running full speed towards the horses. Pounding footsteps followed us, and a deep thrum filled the air, followed by an arrow slicing past my head. I yelped, jumping to the side. "ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US?!" I yelled. Then I was to Abelard, grabbing his reigns and stuttering out the words, "_Permettez moi?_" before mounting up, while beside me I heard Sarah saying, "Do you mind?" I started to wheel the compliant, if slightly confused, Abelard around, when I heard Halt and Will start to break in a different direction - towards Tiron and Correr. "Tiron, follow!" I yelled, before digging my heels into Abelard and dashing into the road. Sarah was quick behind me, calling Correr to her as well. Fours sets of pounding hoof beats filled my ears as I struggled to become accustomed to Abelard's gait. As soon as we hit the road, we pulled up, deciding we didn't need to legitimately leave them behind. After a few moments, Halt and Will plunged out of the trees, glaring at us. I swung out of the saddle, biting my lips to keep from laughing. Really, the joke was on me, however, because Abelard was considerably taller than Tiron, and I staggered as the ground came later than expected, dropping onto my hands and knees with little grace. I stood, wiping mud from my knees and checking to make sure my palms weren't bleeding, while Halt stormed forwards, snatching Abelard's reigns from my hands angrily.

"How did you know his code word?!" Halt snapped, and I suddenly realized my mistake. How were we going to explain this one?

"Uhhhhh..." I articulately replied.

"You must have mentioned it sometime." Sarah said casually, and I nodded vigorously, all too willing to agree with her.

Halt gave me a suspicious look. "Rangers don't just toss around their code words..."

_Please, please just believe us!_ I thought, holding my breath. If we told him the truth, I had a feeling that he'd discount it as an insanity relapse, and who knew what would happen then? However, I kept my expression innocent and clear as I struggled to continue meeting his gaze. Finally, he just turned and stalked into the woods, followed in a similar manner by Will. Sarah and I followed meekly, leading our own horses. As we walked, Halt and Will leaned down to grab their fallen arrows, which turned out to have small spherical ends. They admittedly would have hurt, had they hit us, but they wouldn't have done any more damage than a little bruise. We were, as promised the night before, provided with our diner, before being sent to bed, told that we would have second and third watches. However, as I lay in the damp darkness, I couldn't get my eyes to close, and just stared silently into the forest canopy. Behind me, the fire cracked and fizzed as the occasional drip would plop from the trees above. I practiced feigning sleep, however, knowing that I simply wasn't very good at it. This became considerably harder as Halt and Will's voices came softly from the darkness, and I strained to listen in.

"I just don't understand." Halt began, and I heard him toss another log on the fire. I noted that he must be confident of our lead if he was allowing such a luxury.

"I know! Only you, Old Bob, and I know Tug's code word - knew, I mean."

"And I'm absolutely certain that neither you nor I have ever been so careless to let them slip, and Old Bob would not be so thoughtless either. But how else could they know?"

"Guessing? Hope? Experimentation?" Will's voice suggested that he was grasping at straws, and that he knew it. They were silent for a very long time, before Will said so softly that I almost missed it over the crackle of the flames, "I'm worried Halt." Halt did not respond, and as I lay there listening, I realized that there really was nothing for him to say. "Halt, what if we lose this war? What will happen to the people of Araluen? To the Rangers? To Horace and Evanlyn?" Will took a long shaky breath, before he continued. "What about Alyss?"

Again, there was a long silence. Then Halt said gently, "Will, you know as well as I that Alyss and Pauline are more than capable of taking care of themselves."

"But Halt, you don't understand!" Will exclaimed, "Alyss is... Alyss is..." he trailed off, as if unsure of what he was about to say.

"You can tell me, Will." Halt softly told him.

"I know, it's just..." Will was silent a moment longer, before he said even softer than before, "Alyss is pregnant."

Now, if it were anyone but Halt, this would have been a spit take moment. The water/coffee/other would come spewing out of their mouth all over the fire, and they would say, 'WHAT?!' However, because it _was_ Halt, he just said, "Ah." and was silent once again. I on the other hand was barely keeping myself from doing just that by holding my breath determinedly until the urge to do so receded. I squeezed my eyes shut hard, and slowly reached up to cover my mouth so I couldn't accidentally make any noises. For a long time, all was still, before Halt said, "Will, go get some rest, I'll take first watch." I heard Will stand and silently move away from the fire a ways, and then lie down. Soon, his breathing slowed and I knew he was asleep - or faking it like me. Halt moved around a bit before settling down, and eventually, I drifted into sleep.

I was woken by Sarah a few hours later, and groggily staggered to my feet. Sarah plopped down and was asleep in seconds, making me jealous. I walked a couple silent circles around the camp, in an attempt to wake up a little, before settling on the ground with my back against a tree trunk. I suddenly felt as if someone was watching me, and I turned warily, only to find Tiron standing behind me. I stood, smiling, and rubbed his nose.

_Were you awake when-_ Tiron began.

"Yeah." I whispered, "Whoa, right?"

Tiron tossed his head in agreement. _Tug says that Will's all worried and stuff._

"Understandably." I said, and I swear that little horse shrugged.

_Alyss could fight off a whole army by herself, just using words. She'll be fine._

"I know." I whispered, ruffling his ears. "I know." Then, in my handmade clothes (or was all clothing handmade back then? Well, handmade by me, anyways.), I sat myself by the embers of the fire and, facing away to preserve my night vision, stared silently into the darkness. My shift passed without incident, and so I woke Will, who did so with a jerk. I helped him up, and, though I knew it might give me away, I gave his forearm a reassuring squeeze. If he noticed, he didn't say, just stretched and moved over to where I'd been sitting a moment before. Even though I doubted my ability to get any rest at that point, I lay down and rolled into a blanket I'd scavenged from my pack, shifting my knives so that they weren't digging into my hips anymore, and shut my eyes.

Apparently I got at least a little sleep because Sarah had to wake me. I groaned as I stood, thinking that this whole adventure business was not as glamorous as it seemed. Then I thought how ironic it was that Sarah was waking _me_ up, and grinned, thinking of days where Shayna and I had thrown pillows at the groggy Sarah, having been awake for hours while Sarah lay inert upon her bed. Oh, how much we had changed.

The next days passed in much the same way, with either escape training or a different type of training each day, like knife throwing or archery or unseen movement, etc. None of them were fun after hours of traveling, but we didn't really have a choice. After a particularly interesting escape challenge where we'd been tied to a large boulder in the middle of a nearby river, we sat heavily down in the dust to find that some of the dust wasn't dust - it was snow. The cold substance was mostly melting on contact with the ground, but where it didn't it was a bit of a shock. I'd been so engrossed in the traveling and training I hadn't even noticed the cooling weather until now. From Sarah's expression, she was thinking much the same thing as I was. Halt glanced at the sky, as if gauging something. "We should be getting into the mountains soon." he said softly. "And we need to stop in a town to get supplies. Ranger cloaks are warm, but not enough for tough mountain climates. And you don't have any cloaks, anyways." We nodded and wrapped ourselves a little tighter in our blankets, which, unfortunately, were damp. Not very helpful for keeping warm in cold weather, but they were all we had. Will and Halt both left to go hunting, saying that many animals would now be retreating into hibernation and that finding game would be harder, so Sarah and I were left to making a fire. Despite our complete and utter failure at making fires at girl scout camp, with Will and Halt's tutelage, we were now able to start fires, even if we weren't amazing at it. By the time our mentor's returned, we were both huddled comfortably in front of the fire, a nice little ring of snow-less ground around us and blankets already beginning to dry. Will had caught a nice deer, and after it was gutted and skinned, it was set to roast over the fire. Sarah had gotten over the whole vegetarian thing, so she could now eat as much as she wanted of it, and did so happily. Sarah and I got first and second watch, and since we were happy with the promise of some time in a village as opposed to on the cold frostbitten trail, we decided to take the watches together. We sat a ways away from the clearing where we were camped, and we leaned side by side against a large trunked tree.

"Cold, huh?" Sarah puffed, revealing her breath in the cool moon's rays.

"Eh, suck it up. I walked to school in colder. Regularly."

"Well, just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have. Some people would pity my plight." Sarah said, and I smiled, getting the Harry Potter reference.

"Yes, well, apparently I'm not that someone." I said.

"Hush." Sarah said, "Halt's glaring at us." I raised my eyebrows (yes, plural. The one eyebrow thing still didn't work). Sarah hadn't even turned around.

"Well where's the fun in a shared watch if we can't even talk?" I whispered. Sarah shrugged. We were in silence for a long time, eyes roving over the scenery, ears pricked. Thoughtfully, I began to hum without thinking about it. It wasn't until Sarah had hummed a few bars with me that I realized what song it was. Convenient, I thought. Very in era. Sarah had shown me the tune a year or two ago, and it sounded like it could have been from the time period. Mordred's Lullaby, it was called. We came to the end of the tune, and I said, "The only problem is that we can't get that slightly electronic sounding background."

"Yeah." Sarah replied. "Dub step would be even harder!"

I laughed softly. "Yes, when people try to sing dub step it always turns out badly." I gave Sarah an example with a few seconds of my imitation of Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites. As always, it sounded like I was a complete idiot, and when I finished we laughed together.

"Very nice." Sarah said.

"Let's hear you do better!" I exclaimed, giving her a playful shove.

"No thanks, I'll refrain from looking like an imbecile, but thanks for the invite." I gave her another shove. "Look, we can't just go around singing anything we'd like - most of the stuff would sound suspicious here, and we'll be abandoned 'cuz we're crazy."

"Okay, point taken." My vision zeroed in for a moment on a motion out in the forest, but then a doe came into my view, and I decided that she was what had caused the movement. Back home, I would have pointed it out to Sarah, but here, not only was I certain she'd already spotted it, but we had seen so many deer that it wasn't even interesting anymore.

The moon had moved to the other side of a branch on the tree, before Sarah said softly, "Hey, would Mulan tunes be too out of era?"

I glanced over at her. "Well, wrong area, but close enough." Together we started humming 'I'll Make a Man out of You', and then, on the last verse, started singing it softly. So, it wasn't in era, or in location, but it was better than rock. Soon, we were cycling through our favorite show tunes. And then, deciding it wouldn't hurt to much, we went on to 'Hotel California','Hallelujah', 'How to Save a Life', and 'Livin on a Prayer', jumping to our feet while we sang. "Whoaaaaaa we're half was there..." "Whooooooaaaaa! Livin' on a prayer!" "Take my hand, and we'll make it I swe-ar," "Whooooooaaa! Living on a pra-!" We both choked off the last words as we were thrown to the ground, winding us and leaving us gasping for air. I coughed and spluttered, searching for my attacker. There behind me was Halt, glowering at me as if I were the devil himself.

"Prayer?" I said meekly.

"What. Are. You. Doing." he demanded, and I swear I thought he was going to kick the living crap out of me. His voice was icy cold, like a dagger in the Antarctic.

"Ummm... singing?" I offered lamely.

"In the middle of the night? When we're _hiding from the Picts_?"

"Ummmm... yes?"

Halt's face was emotionless. "You two, are in _so_ much trouble." he turned and stalked off. Sarah and I watched him leave in our prostrate position, eyes wide, until he laid down and apparently went back to sleep. We both let out sighs of relief.

"That was wayyyyyyy to close." I whispered.

"Too close? That was way past close dude." Sarah replied, "That was caught caught caught. Caught."

I sighed and sat back against a tree. "Yeah. If I could tweet this, I would hash-tag it 'busted'."

Sarah chuckled. "Ah twitter. I never got one you know. Never saw the point."

I nodded. "Me too, for the longest time. Then I got one, mostly so I could follow famous people. Like Ryan Higa."

"ShamWOOHOO!" She mimicked, and I smiled.

"Yeah, and then a couple of friends. Like Shayna." Sarah nodded.

We both sat in thoughtful silence for a while. Then, Sarah asked, "I wonder where everyone else is? I mean, like Shayna and Mike and the like. Ah! That rhymed."

"Well, I saw Shayna just before we found Halt and Will after fleeing castle Araluen, but she didn't recognize me and seemed to be just an average peasant girl - collecting mushrooms."

Sarah nodded. "We did always call her the normal one, didn't we?"

"I knew being weird was a good thing!" I exclaimed, and we both grinned, elbowing each other. The moment was so real, so _normal_... and that's when it hit me like a sledgehammer. Even though the plot was fantastical, the people once fictional, the adventure like it was from a story book, this wasn't a story. It was real. If I died, there wouldn't be another chapter to reveal that it had all been a decoy, or a ploy, or that the seemingly killer blow had been deflected in some amazing way - I'd be _dead_. If Sarah died, I couldn't just re-imagine it a different way and bring her back. I realized that for the entire trip, all my emotions had been muted, like those you get when you're reading. When the main character is sad, happy, or angry, you feel those emotions too, but obviously not as strongly, right? It felt like all the emotions that I'd been feeling had just been thrown into sharp relief, and the fear of being caught by the Picts, the fear of being grabbed out of the darkness, the fear of unfriendly eyes in the night was suddenly very, very, real. My breathing sped up, and my eyes dilated, every muscle tensing. I scanned the darkness, sure that an arrow or a blade was going to shoot out of the shadows at any moment.

"Whoa, you okay?" Sarah asked, and I realized that my hands were shaking like an old man's.

"I don't - I don't know." I felt out of breath, like I had just run a long way.

"I think you need to lie down - you don't look too good. I'll take this watch, okay?" Sarah gave me a little push towards the dying embers of the fire.

"You sure?" I asked.

She brushed my words away with a hand. "Go on. You look ready to pass out."

I didn't ask again. I laid down, a cold knot in my stomach, close to the embers, closer than was safe. I felt the heat burning my skin, but I wanted to be close to that light, like a little kid with a nightlight. _What's wrong with you?_ I asked myself. _It's not like you're any worse off than you were before. What's got your knickers in a twist all of the sudden?_ I forced my eyes to close, taking slow, deep breaths. As I drifted into sleep, I felt tears sting my eyes, and though I tried to hold them back, they tumbled down my cheeks with annoying persistence. _You're such a sissy._ I told myself, with made another tear roll down my cheek. I hoped that Sarah wouldn't come around the fire to warm up and see my crying, and that Halt and Will were truly asleep, but decided it would be best to just let the tears come. They rolled across my nose, as I lay on my side, along my one cheek and down along to almost my ear before touching the ground. It felt good to be able to release all the emotion pooling inside me, and I felt the lump in my stomach seemed to fade. I finally fell asleep, with the song "This Too Shall Pass" by Ok Go playing over and over in my head.

* * *

When I finally was woken, I almost forgot about the night before - almost until my eyes were all the way open, in fact. Then I was quickly bringing my palms to my cheeks, rubbing away any tear stains that might still be there. Just because I was a sissy didn't mean that I had to show it. I could put on my brave face and tough it out - maybe.

The day started out normal, just us riding into the dawn light, but soon after the sun had risen above the tree tops we were met with a fork in the road, one with a sign pointing towards our ultimate goal, the mountains, and one with a sign pointing to a town. Instead of turning towards the mountains, Halt instead turned us into town. There was a definite chill in the air now, but Halt instructed Will to remove his cloak (and Halt took his off too), and us to take our blankets and wrap them around our unusual clothing like they were robes. Sarah and I lucked out, but Will and Halt were a bit chilly.

This town was even tinier than the first one we'd stopped in - it couldn't have been more than a dozen buildings. I assumed the housing portion of the town must be on the far side of the downtown area, if you could call it a downtown. We rode in on our horses with our weapons disguised, and then left the horses in a stable though we did not remove their saddles. Snow began to drift down like feathers as we started down the small dirt road between the quiet buildings. It was how I imagined a small western town would have looked on winter's day in the early eighteen hundreds, except plus trees - there were people about, but not many, and making virtually no noise. All the buildings were log cabin style, and when customers or shop keepers stepped outside, they made sure to firmly shut the snugly fitted doors to keep the cold in. "We're going to need to get lots of things here - the inner land bound side of Teutlandt is mostly tribal, and they aren't too friendly to strangers. This is all we're going to get." Halt told us, and we nodded, both trying to mentally calculate how many days this meant we had left of trudging through the hinterlands.

We entered the first building and bought lots of winter clothes, which looked suspiciously thin to me, along with two more dresses for disguising Sarah and I, which we donned right away, much to our displeasure, though the soft but tough fabric of a working woman were much more comfortable than the stuffy formal things we'd been forced to wear before. We bought a mountain of preserved foods, and Halt bought more coffee, though he refused to buy me any more tea. It was the bare minimum for us, apparently. Halt decided we needed to restock our medical supplies, but there wasn't a place to buy any in town, so Halt, after inquiring with a shop keeper, Halt headed off on his own to find a place to get them, while we all waited back in a small, uncrowded tavern. Will was generous and bought us all drinks, him getting a small glass of a wine (keep in mind that alcohol back then was barely alcohol at all - it took quite a bit of it to get even a little tipsy, so Will wasn't going to have any troubles), and Sarah and I getting warm ciders, which were luckily non-alcoholic. There was just one big table in the Tavern, but the couple of other people in the tavern were friendly enough. Soon we were all laughing together, though the three of us had to be careful to not disclose anything stupid. The warmth and camaraderie of the tavern was apparently alluring to people from such a small town, because as the sun set, and Halt remained absent, more and more people began to filter in and sit down, chatting. It never got crowded space wise, because the table didn't take up that much room in the space, but soon the table just didn't have any chairs left. As people began to make their dinner orders, other people who worked at the Tavern began to drag out more tables and chairs, so that people who didn't have seats could have a place to eat. The conversation grew louder and louder, so we almost had to yell to be heard, but we didn't really mind. To be brutally honest, it was a relief to be able to talk to someone different for once! After I got over my shyness, talking was amazingly fun. The best part was being able to tell jokes that had been told to death at home, but here, they were brand new and hysterical. Sarah and I had tons of fun with that. We even started re-enacting some Monty Python sketches, but we had to be a bit particular, as some of them wouldn't even make sense during this time. A man of about thirty was telling us a story about how one of his boys had been dragged all about his farm by a sheep, when Sarah gave me a nudge and pointed across the room.

"Looky." she said teasingly. "It seems like someone's come through the looking glass to see you."

I looked up, confused, and felt my face flush. There, helping to drag a table out of the back room for the ten people standing by the fire, was Malin. Now, you've gotta understand, when we left home, I had what you might call a puppy crush on Malin - we both played guitar in Jazz Band, and he wasn't like all the other boys in my school. Unlike them, he was kind, polite, and hadn't once talked to me in that voice - you know the one, the one that says 'You're such a loser so I'll never take you or anything you say/do seriously' - in fact I hadn't seen him talk to anyone like that. He was popular, I guess, or at least he had lots of friends. And he wasn't an airhead like many - he clearly had something other than rocks in his skull. But we rarely talked, and when we did, it was somewhat strained - I was shy for the obvious reasons, and he seemed shy too, though if it was for the same reason I couldn't tell you. The fact that he was a Junior and I was a freshman also made things a little tough for me. When I'd finally told Sarah and Shayna, they'd not made fun of me, but gone 'Aw, so cute!' in an ever so slightly teasing way.

"Oh great." I muttered, looking away from him, feeling my face start to blush.

Sarah laughed and gave me a little nudge. "C'mon, you're never going to see him again here! Just see if he likes you, or if he could like you in our world - if we ever go back, that could be valuable information." Sarah encouraged, and I shrugged, downing the last of my cider. She elbowed me again as I shook my head. "C'mon, you baby."

A waitress came over, placing plates in front of people a little ways down, then coming over to our section, and asking "And are you folks going to have today?" Her accent was thick, unlike other people here, and sounded Russianish, but not quite. Almost all the people here had some sort of accent, and many couldn't speak English very well, but her's was particularly distinct. People all around us called out their orders heartily, and she rushed to write down all their orders.

We glanced at Will, and he shrugged, before calling, "Might as well - Halt's not back yet, so what else are we to do?" Sarah and I peered down the table, examining the other people's dishes, and then pointing out the ones we wanted in the absence of a menu. The waitress was patient and kind, so we didn't feel pressured. After I'd ordered a dish that looked vaguely like steak, and Sarah had ordered a big bowl of stew, she went off to deliver our orders. She stopped halfway across the room however, looking over her shoulder at the door, before yelling "Bendik's here!" The entire crowd erupted into cheers, and a man in his mid thirties stepped in. He was holding a violin, and the table was scooched back to an uncomfortable proximity with the wall to make a big open spot near the fireplace. Bendik pulled a stool out from behind the bar area, and sat down, settling the instrument on his shoulder.

"I am going to play a couple of tunes for you while you eat, and then you are free to join me out her after, alright?" His accent was even thicker than the waitress', so I had a bit of trouble attempting to understand him, but I managed. My steak was placed neatly in front of me just as he started playing, and I marveled at how they could possibly be faster here than at home, where we had microwaves and electric ovens. I took my unfortunately dull knife and began hacking away at my meat as he began a delicate tune, something that sounded way ahead of it's time - meaning it sounded like Beethoven. It felt weird to think that Beethoven was ahead of this time, I actually almost laughed at the thought. There was still a hubbub out in the tables, but it had gotten noticeably quieter in here, in order to hear Bendik. The steak was scrumptious, at least compared to the fairly bland soups we'd been having for the last weeks. I ate until I was filled, then leaned back in my chair, listening to the violin music. When paired with the heat of the room and my full stomach, made my eyelids begin to droop. I yawned... Then jumped in surprise as a cheer rose up and a couple dozen chairs slammed backwards, wood scraping on wood, and feet clomping along the boards. Twenty or thirty people had gotten up and were clumped messily in the center of the open space that had been cleared earlier, standing in pairs, one boy and one girl. Then Bendik began to play a lively tune, and the entire group began a dance that matched the tone of the music. The room was no longer quiet - it anything it was deafening.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and I whipped around, feeling suddenly jumpy. In the noise, a battalion of Scotti soldiers could bust down the door, swords drawn and calling for our blood, and we wouldn't even have heard them. However it was not a Scotti, but a young man who looked oddly familiar. He was perhaps a couple years older than me, but with our adjusted ages, it was harder to tell. He had an easy smile, with long tousled blonde hair. "Dance?" he asked, holding out his hand, his thick accent and uncertain pronunciation of the word suggesting he didn't speak English natively.

I glanced at Will, who shrugged, and then at Sarah, who did the same. I shrugged, being of course the only one who hadn't done so yet, and said, "Why not?" I took his hand, slipping out of my chair. I scowled as my skirts got all tangled up, but the boy kept me from falling. He turned around and called something in what I assumed must be Russian to someone, and as I was guided to the dance floor, I saw a boy who must have been this boy's brother stand up and approach where I'd been sitting. Well, at least Sarah wouldn't get left out. The song changed just as we got over there. As if choreographed, everyone began to do a complicated sort square dance, which I now realized that I had no idea how to do. The boy stood in front of me, smiling expectantly, and offering me his arm. Feeling a little embarrassed, I said "I don't know this dance." He frowned and gave me a quizzical look. "I," I gestured to myself, "don't know," I shook my head, "this dance." I gestured to the dancers who had already begun the complicated steps. He frowned a moment more, murmuring something to himself, then his face lit up with recognition.

"I can... show you." he stumbled on the words, as if they were hard to remember and harder to pronounce, like how most of us sound in Spanish class back home. He took my hands in his own, and held them up between us. He took a step backwards, and I followed, but he shook his head, gesturing me to step back as well, so our arms were extended fully. I did so, and then slowly he stepped back in. We were going much slower than the music, but Bendik didn't seem likely to stop any time soon, so we'd have time to catch up. I copied him, and he took us in a couple spins that I supposed would be much faster in the real thing. Then, releasing my left hand, he looped other arm around so that I spun one way, then the other, and ended up with both our arms outstretched, side by side, before he spun me back in so that my back was against his chest. He spun me back to face him, before repeating the first two steps. Then, with no warning what-so-ever, he let go of my hands, grabbed my waist, and tossed me into the air. I let out a little squeak, before he caught me again and lowered me to the ground. He was grinning wider than a little boy on Halloween, and I couldn't help but smile too.

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**Okay, so awkward place to stop, sorry. I'll try to post the next one quick as possible.**


	15. Chapter 14: I Hear Music Part 2

"You... can do now?" He had to stop and think about the ending a while, as if he had different words in mind but couldn't articulate himself.

"Maybe." he frowned, uncomprehending, and so I changed my anser to, "Yes." He smiled once again, took my hands, and paused just a second to wait for the cue in the music. Then, we began the dance, way faster than we had been going, so that each move came faster than I could remember what came next! Luckily, the boy had quick reflexes, so each time I stumbled he caught me. We went through the dance again and again with the others in the Inn, and I caught a glimpse of Sarah dancing with the boy who had come over, and giggled slightly. Sarah had never been much of a dancer. But really, who was I to talk?

The dance repeated again and again, until I was out of breath and starting to get the hang of it. Just as we were coming up to another throw, Bendik called out something, and as my feet left the ground, all the boys let out a call in Russian, so loud that I could have mistaken it for a concert stadium, and instead of being caught by the waist again (which was getting pretty painful after five or six times) the boy caught me beneath the knees and under the back. He gave me a big spin, and then set me on my feet, smiling bigger than the Cheshire cat. I gave him a look like "What's going on?" After a moment, he said, "Switch." and turned away, before sweeping up a girl who had been deposited behind him. I frowned, shaking my head, confused, when I felt someone reach around me and snatch my hand, spinning me around and grabbing my other hand. I looked up, and felt my entire face begin to glow red. Lo and behold, there before me stood none other than Malin, and the music was getting past a little bridge and going back into the dancing.

"Do you speak English?" I said, before I even realized that I was saying anything.

He laughed. "Of course. It's important when your parents own an Inn and Tavern." he still had an accent, but it was way less than the other boy I had been dancing with. In fact, it was sort of like the accent he had in 'real life'.

The dance began again, and we started through the steps all over again. I wondered briefly how Sarah was doing, but I quickly stopped thinking of anything other than my feet as my stupid skirt got tangled in my ankles, almost making me take a tumble. Malin caught me, seemingly with ease, and I scowled inside, wondering where he got so strong. He tossed me in the air, caught me with the same ease, and we began the steps all over again.

"I see you got caught with Anatoliy. He's a nice kid, but hard to work with if you don't know the language of the Eastern Steppes. His name means 'Sunrise', on account of his hair." Oddly talkative for Malin, I thought. He'd barely said a dozen words to me in all the time I'd known him, and we'd sat next to each other in Jazz Band for a whole year; now he had said at least twice that, and showed no sign of stopping. We came to the spin, and, feeling encouraged by his friendliness, and the number of times I had gone through the dance instead of letting him spin me, I spun him, sending him out and pulling him back. He laughed, and as we did the second set of steps, I grabbed him and, to my astonishment, managed to toss him into the air, and catch him too! Maybe a little less gracefully than him with me, but then again, he was at least an inch taller and a good ten pounds heavier than I, so I guess I should get some leeway.

As we began the steps again, he said, "You're pretty strong for a girl."

"Are you saying girls are weak?" I asked in a mock testy voice.

"No, of course not, but you do mending work, and we lift lumber and chop logs." He didn't sound as if he was jesting.

"That is a stereotype!" I exclaimed as he spun me around, and as he spun me in, I pulled on his arm so that my shoulder blade slammed into his ribs, hard. "I'll have you know that I-" I shut up really quick as I caught myself about to tell him about what I did as a ranger - really, really bad idea when trying to to leave a trail. "I'll have you know that I can chop wood as well as any boy." I finished lamely.

He smiled soothingly. "I'm sure you can." He tossed me again, and I dragged him to a halt.

"Oh, you're on!" I said, ignoring his confusion at my use of a modern idiom. I dragged him over to an open spot at a table, which, due to the number of dancers, were now quite numerous, and set my elbow on the table. "Arm wrestle. Bet you a glass of cider that I beat you. " He sat down, smiling slightly condescendingly.

"We're out of Cider. How 'bout a beer?"

"Wine."

"Alright, wine then." he rolled up his sleeve and set his elbow on the table as well, taking my hand firmly in his own. "And if I win...?"

"I dunno, whaddaya want?" I was beginning to wonder where this confidence was coming from - it's not like I had said much to hiim back home either.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled somewhat wickedly over my shoulder. I glanced behind me, and was just in time to see five of six other boys looking quickly away, acting that way that's supposed to look casual but is actually the most conspicuous thing you can possibly do. I looked back at him, to find him desperately trying to hide a smile. "A kiss."

It took all my willpower not to let my jaw drop all the way to the tabletop. Malin? Be this bold? I blinked quickly, forcing a casual smile over my face. This world's Malin was not the same Malin than I knew. The Malin I knew had not grown up in a tavern, a place where being gregarious is almost a must. This was a totally different boy than what I knew. And, in point of fact, I wasn't really the me I'd been back home either.

"Fine, whatever you want." I said, removing my hand from his, wiping it on my pant leg to remove any sweat that might be there, and then replaced it. "Ready, set, GO!" My arm strained against his, our muscles bulging. I bent my head, as I always have to when I'm concentrating on something like this. I could feel my hand slowly inching it's way towards the table top, and I put my shoulder into it, stopping any progress Malin might have been making. I was still on the losing side, but all was not lost quite yet.

"So, Malin, you still playing guitar?" I asked. For a brief second, I was able to shove back so that our arms were hovering in neutral territory again.

"How'd you know my name, and how'd you know about... that?" He sounded spooked now, more like the Malin I knew, though still not quite.

"I knew you, long, long ago, though you don't remember." I lied, knowing I couldn't tell him the truth.

"Well don't tell anyone 'bout my project, it's a secret."

"It won't be in a couple centuries, I can tell you that." I muttered, before saying, "How far have you gotten?" My shoulder had begun to ache, as it always did, and my hand started inching back towards the table.

"I'm having trouble getting the tones right - I string the strings, but they get out of tune, even with just one length, precisely cut. One day they sound right, the next they sound awful. The tuners like those on fiddles don't work - they won't turn at all."

"Try using big tuning pegs like those on the scroll of violi- I mean, fiddles. They have a lot more leverage that way. And I don't know what you're using for strings, but thin metal cord works pretty good." My hand was shaking now, my arm muscles having little spasms, and with each one a lost a little ground.

"Does it really?" He could sense his victory now, and he was going at it with a new vigor. I fought back valiantly, but I could feel defeat creeping up on me. I thought of having to kiss this pseudo-Malin, and felt all together conflicted. Here was a Malin, who had basically asked me out to my face, where as the other one barely spoke to me._ But it isn't him!_ one part of my brain cried, while the other part of my brain said,_ Close enough!_ Finally, I sighed, deciding that if I kissed this boy, I'd never find the courage to talk to the other Malin at all, not thinking how very different he was from this one. I'd have to get a little dirty. Using my highly toned wrist muscles, built up from days of knife throwing, I twisted his. He cried out, and almost instantly his hand was on the table, mine pressed firmly into it.

"One glass of nicely watered wine, please. Maybe a spoon of sugar, sweeten it up a little." I said, pulling my hand from his, leaning back in my chair, wearing the smuggest expression I can make.

Malin's face became red. "That's cheating!" he cried.

I examined my nails pointedly. "Oh? I don't recall you laying out any rules."

"Yeah, but everyone knows you can't twist the other person's wrist!"

"Mmmhmmm. Just get the wine lover boy." I replied. Fuming, he stood, stomping away to the back room. I glanced over my shoulder, and caught the boys all watching me with poorly disguised astonishment in their gazes. I flicked them a salute, before I turned back just in time to see Malin slam a mug in front of me.

"There. Happy?"

"Yep. Thanks Malin." I snatched up the my mug, stood, and marched back over to Will.

He looked up as I approached. "That went well." he commented dryly.

"You were watching?" I asked.

"Yeah. Good job staying incognito."

I frowned. "What?"

He leaned close across the table, though he still had to talk fairly loud to be heard over the din of the music and dancing. "How many farm girls do you know who can beat a hardworking boy at any test of strength? Hmm?" I opened my mouth to object that I'd seen it plenty of times, but then stopped, deflating. It had always been back home, where _no one_ met this era's standards of hardworking. "Exactly. When the Picts come storming in here questioning people about strange people, you'd better believe that incident will come up. Perhaps it will be discarded, perhaps not, but all the same, it's not common." I met his eyes, then flicked them away.

"Sorry." I mumbled.

He reached across the table and clapped me on the shoulder. "Don't worry - that's why I'm the teacher and you're the student. Just don't do it again." I was going to respond, but at that moment Sarah and her latest dance partner, smiling broadly, arrived at the table. The boy who accompanied her was about her height, with long, swept back black hair, and strong features. As she reached her seat, he took her hand, kissed it, and gave her a dashing smile, before walking to a seat a couple of tables over. Sarah sat down, grabbing my wine and taking a sip. She made a face, smile disappearing momentarily as the bitter taste of alcohol washed over her taste buds.

"Ugh-! What's that?" She said, pushing it away.

"Wine." I replied. I took a sip myself, and made a similar face as Sarah's went back to a grin.

"That was loads of fun!" she exclaimed. "Oh, after I figured out how to do it, it was just- oh, I haven't had such a good time in ages!"

"Good." Will said, and I looked over at him with surprise at the grave tone in his voice. "It might be a few more ages before you get to have another one." His eyes were focused somewhere over our heads, and we both turned to see Halt, hand pressed tightly against his upper arm, with tinges of red staining his fingers and eyes grave. "Come on. We've outstayed our welcome." We went as fast as we could though the chairs and tables without being conspicuous, which, because of the massive amount of general commotion taking place in the room, was pretty fast.

Halt was already leaving as we reached the door, so we hurried to catch up. Closer up, I could see a ring in the cloth around where his hand was clamped to his arm, dark in the moonlight on his white shirt. "Halt, what happened?" I asked, stumbling over my skirts before catching my balance.

"Let it suffice to say that the medical supplies I located are going to be of use sooner than I'd hoped." We arrived at our horses then and mounted up. "And, that the Picts are much closer than we supposed." Halt nudged Abelard then, and he set off at a canter. We followed, and, at Halt's command, gave the correct toe signals to tell the horses to be as silent as they could. Almost instantly, their hoof beats seemed to vanish into thin air. Then, Halt took off full gallop, whizzing out of that town almost as fast as his arrows. Out into the night we silently sped, turning back onto the road towards our destination. The moon rose high into the sky, lighting our road, before it ducked down beneath the tops to the trees and plunged us into darkness. If Tiron was as blind as I was, he didn't let on, because he didn't even falter as the moonlight disappeared, hoof beats still as silent as before. However, because I couldn't see, I found that every turn and dip made me come close to falling off; so much so in fact that I had to bend forward and, trusting him to his own discretion, let go of the reigns and clutched at his mane. "Don't let me fall, okay?" I whispered. His tail swished forward and brushed against my back. I think he was trying to comfort me - the tension in the air was so thick that you could have cut it with a knife.

We rode straight through the night, and as the sunlight started filtering dimly through the leaves, I found myself regretting all that dancing. Weeks of riding, escape training, and then dancing were beginning to add up into a massive painful throb in my entire body. However, it was a relief to be able to sit up in my saddle, instead of bending in half to hold Tiron's mane. I twisted my spine around to crack my back, then cracked my neck and my knuckles. I could already tell that we weren't going to be stopping any time soon - that would be too risky with the Scotti so close behind, though how close that was I didn't know, and I was frankly a little scared to ask. When Halt didn't want to talk, he let you know, and if you were too stubborn to respect that or too stupid to get it, you paid for it.

It soon became apparent that our course was beginning a gentle upward slope, and I felt a little flare of hope - maybe we were almost there! I glanced over at Sarah, who had been as silent as I. She looked strange, with her perfect riding position, gracefully moving with Correr's movements, and her dress's skirts bunched about her knees where she was straddling her horse. Not that I looked any different, but there you have it. She met my gaze after a moment - we'd both grown adept at feeling another's gaze. She nodded, having already noticed the sloping. Hopefully, we'd soon have a chance to rest.

It was almost unnoticeable, but the trees began to thin out, the slope became more extreme, and the air became more chill. By the time the sun was dropping back out of the sky, and I was about to fall asleep in the saddle, our horses began leaving hoof prints in a quarter inch of snow. I jerked back awake for the fifth of sixth time as Halt announced, "We'll stop here for the night."

"Ohthankgod!" Sarah said, wearily staggering out of the saddle onto the cold ground. I followed shortly after, rubbing my eyes hard. Halt led us over to a large boulder a hundred yards off the road. Luckily, the gentle wind had made it so the snow hadn't fallen on one side of the rock, so we wouldn't be sleeping in it. We loosened the saddles of the horses, and let them go, though there wasn't much grass for them to forage on the surface - later on I saw them snorting close to the ground and nuzzling the snow away to get at the chilled greens beneath. Then we staggered exhaustedly over to the snowless side of our shelter and slumped against it. I almost fell asleep right there, but woke up again as Halt said, "No fire." I opened my eyes to see Sarah with an armful of wood, looking bewildered. I felt bad - I should have been helping, even if we couldn't have the fire in the end.

"Why not?" Sarah whined, seeming to deflate a little.

"Now that we know that the Scotti are so close behind, we can't afford to give away our position." I noted that Halt's hand was still clamped firmly over his arm - it looked as if he hadn't moved it since we'd started riding. As Sarah dumped her load dejectedly, he nudged a small log onto it's end and sat down on it. Then, I watched as, in the fading light, he slowly removed his hand from his arm, a slight wince creasing his brow as he did so. His entire palm was coated in a red sheen, the edges beginning to dry and turn crusty brown. The stain on his sleeve had gotten bigger, and now the sleeve was stiff. He gently probed the wound, and another wince creased his face. I could see now the slash that split his sleeve, and just a glimpse of the red gap in the flesh beneath. He teased the cloth from where it was sticking to the wound.

"What happened?" Sarah asked, peering at the wound for a moment before looking away, slightly green.

"The Scotti were waiting for us - they knew about our previous delays and guessed we would be looking for more supplies. They laid an ambush, and because I believed them to be so far behind, I wasn't as wary as I should have been." He pulled out the medical kit, and, with one hand, threaded the needle. I watched as he approached his skin.

"Whoa whoa!" I managed, though my exhaustion haze. "Aren't you going to wash that out?" He looked up at me, emotionless. I realized that he must be just as tired as I was, if not more so from blood loss. Without answering, he turned back to his work. "C'mon, I'll do it if you want."

"I don't know if-" I stood, wobbled, then started towards him.

"Look. If that blade or whatever was poisoned, you won't even be able to tell under all that blood. And if it wasn't clean, you'll get it infected."

"We can't spare the water-"

"We can and we will." I knelt beside him, avoiding his gaze by examining his wound."There's water all around us man - it's falling on your head. We can spare it." I pulled out my canteen, and, feeling a little nauseous, poured some over his arm. Though he made no noise, I saw his abrupt intake of breath. I wasn't sure if it was from pain of cold, but either way I pitied him. I pulled lightly on the sleeve, and after a moment it came away, revealing in full the gory wound. I shut my eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then looked back. I could see the muscle bundles, red and inflamed, tensed and obviously painful. I thought about telling him to relax, but decided he knew better than I. I may have known better about the medical necessity of washing wounds, but he knew better than I about how to deal with them after they were washed. Steeling myself, I gently poured a stream of water over the cut, watching as the cold made the muscles contract more. For a moment, I felt a flicker of doubt - maybe Halt had been right. But it was too late now, I'd just have to finish what I'd started. I poured some of the water into my hand and gently applied it around the cut where blood had congealed and covered parts that would need to be stitched. The water ran off pink, soaking into his sleeve, which I hadn't the nerve to remove. "I can't stitch it up." I told him, pouring a little more over a spot in the wound which had what looked like rust along the edges - I wasn't sure, but tetanus might well be deadly here. "You'll have to do that." I cleaned my hands, feeling a bit green myself, then stoppered my mostly empty canteen and staggered over to the rock, where I slumped and sat. That was less glamorous than in the movies too, I decided, reaching sideways past the wind shadow and scooping up some snow which I rubbed between my hands, getting any last bloody remains from my palms. Sarah sat beside me, and we huddled together against the cold. We were wearing our winter gear, but with the sun setting and the snow falling and my hands wet, it was still freezing. I didn't watch as Halt stitched his wound, mostly because I was already asleep, but even if I had been able to, I wouldn't have watched. Not because it was gross, not because I wasn't interested - but because it was a painful reminder that my mentor, the one who had taught me everything I knew, the one who was leading us and bringing us to our safe haven - that man was not invincible.

And we could be left all alone.

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When we woke, the silence was oppressive. There was a wall of snow that ringed our little campsite, and all sounds seemed to end there. The shadows were long now, and the reddening light of the sun suggested that it would be setting soon, though the light was still bright enough to make me squint. Shivering, I sat up straight, stretching. Sarah, who was still asleep, squirmed slightly against the rock, but didn't wake. I stood, pulling my winter coat tight about my shoulders, blowing on my gloved hands. _Who's been keeping watch?_ I wondered, peering around, but I saw Halt and Will lying a few feet off. Perhaps Halt had decided we were safe enough to not need a watch, or maybe Sarah and I had been instructed to keep watch and had just fallen asleep - in any case, the rest I had received hadn't been near enough for how long I'd been awake and alert, and I wouldn't have naturally woken at this time. I took the heels of my palms and rubbed my eyes forcefully, trying to jog my memory -_ what had woken me?_ When I removed my hands, it seemed the sun had finally dropped it's head below the hills, because as I opened my eyes, I was rendered almost blind, spots crossing my vision, where reflected sunlight had beamed straight into my eyes. I walked right up to the knee high barrier in the snow, peering vainly out into the dusk, but I couldn't see anything.

"What is it?" Will's whisper made me jump. I swung around, meeting his eyes in the darkness. I took a deep breath, let it back out.

"Nothing. I was just wondering who was on watch." Lying through my teeth, but I hoped he couldn't tell.

"No one - we decided that in our state we wouldn't do much good at watching anyways. Go on back to bed." He could tell that something was bothering me, I could tell by his tone of voice, but he didn't say anything. I nodded and went to lean up against the rock next to Sarah again. Her head dropped against my shoulder as I sat, and I rested my head on top of hers. For a long time I sat completely alert, waiting for whatever had woken me to come a second time, but it didn't.

Finally, just as I was dropping off, Sarah's voice came whispering through the darkness. "It wasn't nothing - I heard it too." I felt something cold on my palm, and I looked down to see her knife in her hand, the flat of the blade resting against my palm. I felt her smile, even though I didn't look over to see it, before she removed the blade. "I got it."

"I never doubted it." I murmured, before drifting to sleep once more.

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**Okay, so the two 'halves' were a little uneven, but hey, I was just guessing. Don't worry, that whole scene in the Inn actually is a plot point, not just randomness for no reason. So... yeah. Plot points, yay!**

**I like reviews, they make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside!**


	16. Chapter 15: Dark Blue

**A/N: Hi everyone! I had nice long notes for everyone, but then FanFiction just decided to spaz and delete everything. So, everyone who reviewed who were guests, let it suffice to say: baby goats are cute, Malin will be important in the future, and thank you for reviewing. Happy holidays. So, that's why the editing on this isn't so great - I got impatient the second time around.**

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_Tiron trudged exhaustedly through the snow, head hanging as his breath misted the thin air. All of us were tired - we'd been riding for days through the mountains, with little or no change in the scenery, and as we'd gradually gotten higher and higher, the snow had gotten thicker and thicker, and harder to get through. We often walked beside our horses now, to keep from tiring them too terribly much. This was one of those times. My pant legs were frozen up to my knees with snow that had melted against my skin and dampened my leggings before freezing in the frigid air. I wasn't alone. Even the poor horses had ice clinging to their shaggy coats. I pulled my small water canteen from under my shirt, where I had to keep it to prevent it from freezing as well, and took a quick swig from it, before tucking it back away. The touch of something slightly warmer than the air was refreshing, and I swallowed only reluctantly. The air was cold enough to feel like it was burning in your nose and throat and lungs.  
I stumbled slightly, and had to catch myself on Tiron's saddle. When I looked up, I saw that, just ahead of us, there was a dark pine forest, deep shadows lurking beneath looming trees.  
"Uh, Halt?" I murmured as we entered the darkness, "Is this supposed to be here?" When I received no answer, I looked behind me, and said, "Halt?" I gasped when I found that all three of my companions had gone, the mountain that I had been climbing up with them, replaced by a maze of trees. Had I taken a wrong turn? How could I possibly be this far into the forest already? "Halt?!" I called again, whipping back around. I let out a little cry - Tiron was gone too! I stumbled forwards along the track, which was now clear of snow, and peered though the darkness. "Sarah? Will?" I whistled for Tiron, but no hoof beats answered me; I was alone.  
There was a rustle behind me, and I whipped around in time to see a figure slip behind a tree. "Who's there?" I called tentatively, reaching for my bow and finding it absent - I must have left it on Tiron's saddle. Another figure slipped through the trees, lithe and with a slight white aura, though it didn't illuminate their features. Now I heard rustles all about me, coming from every which way. I spun around, but the figures were too fast - I couldn't make their features out.  
Suddenly, there was a chorus of voices from behind me, and with a yell of my own I whipped around. Figures with greyish black skin were charging towards me, crude swords hefted, poor armor dirty and frayed, and most notably, a white hand on their helms. There were at least a hundred of them, and as they ran at me while I stumbled backwards as fast as I could, I identified them, somewhat incredulously. _Uruk-hai!_ I wondered. _But how could that be?!_ Wide eyed, I desperately attempted to grab at my saxe knife, but found it absent as well. Panicked now, I desperately tried to run in the opposite direction, but found that my feet wouldn't move - I was stuck! I tried to scream, but I couldn't - it was like I'd been literally paralyzed with fear. I watched with horror as the mass of warriors charged towards me.  
_Twang!_ The front lines of the hoard dropped, shafts of arrows piercing their necks and chests. As their compatriots stepped forwards to take their places, I saw the glowing figures from before step out of the trees confidently. I felt a violent mix of emotions as I identified them as well. _Well, I've already seen Halt, Will, and now a mass of Uruk-hai, why the hell would there not be elves too?!_ The two forces clashed around me, all of the Uruk-hai trying to get at me, and all of the elves seeming to defend me. Still petrified, I watched as men fell bloody to the ground all around me, piling up. The hundred or so Urukhai from before seemed to have suddenly grown to many many more.  
Out of the trees came a great racket, and as I managed to drag my eyes over, I saw three people sprint from the trees - one a boy with brilliant red hair, one a girl with mousy brown hair, and one a boy with messy black hair. Each of them carried a small branch in their hand, and as I watched, one of them, the one with black hair, turned around and yelled something unintelligible, before pointing with his stick as a bolt of light shot from it. A man dressed in a skull mask dropped from the shadows into the open, before a hoard of others dressed like him came and joined the mass of already fighting warriors. From the other side of the road came a large number of people, most of them seventeen or younger, all dressed in black robes, and soon, along with the clash of swords, there was the noise of people yelling commands and bolts of light erupting from everywhere, all flying haphazardly around. I watched as a man with indistinct features shot a green bolt straight at me, and I desperately wanted to flinch, I did, but I couldn't move! To my shock and horror, a girl of maybe seventeen with long wavy blonde hair jumped in front of me, taking the bolt before crumpling to the ground.  
There was a bellow from above like nothing I'd ever heard, and for a moment all eyes were trained skywards. A great black shape rose above the trees, so large I couldn't see it's edges. It flew straight upwards in pulses, each one accompanied by great gusts of wind that threatened to push everyone over had they been any stronger. Finally, it got up high enough that I could make out it's form - it was a massive black dragon. It turned it's head down so I could see it's glinting eyes, and then roared, so deafeningly loud that I wondered if I would lose my hearing, and began to plunge straight towards me. I could see flame licking at it's maw, ready to fry me alive. I could almost feel the heat of it, the sharp bite of it's massive teeth ready to plunge through me flesh. I could see the meter count crashing rapidly down. 1000 meter,s 500meters, 100 meters, 50meters... I could actually feel the heat now, searing my face. I finally gained the control to scream, when a flash of blue swept from the side with blinding speed, so infinitesimally small compared to the black beast. Even so, it knocked the head of the creature off course, so that it hit the ground beside me instead of on me. The trees were almost instantly set aflame, along with some of the people running through the clearing. A red blur joined the blue one, then a green one as well, and as they slowed, it was revealed that they too were dragons, just of much smaller size. Each of the dragons had a figure on it's back, and they seemed to be bent almost double in concentration.  
In all the confusion and chaos, I finally found the ability to move once more. I turned and ran, speeding as fast as I could from the fight. I skidded, stopping short as a mass of different people charged towards me. I tried a different direction - no better. There was a ring of charging men, some friend, some foe, but all coming straight at me. "What did I even do?!" I cried, feeling despair rise in my chest. I had no weapons, and I was all alone in the midst of this massive battle. A man with a great double edged sword and a powerful air about him dragged me backwards, and for a moment, I felt a flash of confusion.  
"Viggo Mortensen?" I asked, feeling a tug in the back of my mind that something was off. No, not Viggo Mortensen, Aragorn son of Arathorn. Or perhaps neither. The man struck down another that had been about to blast my head off with a pistol, one who wore a suit, dark glasses and had a curly earpiece stuck in his ear.  
"It's a shame you had to turn, Elrond." Viggo/Aragorn said, and again I felt that tug at the back of my mind, but I couldn't place it.  
I felt a grasp on my forearm, and I tried to whip around, before feeling a second grasp on my other arm, holding me in place. I started to turn to look for my assailant, but feeling a sharp pain and cold metal against my back, I froze. I ever so slowly turned my head, ignoring the swords clashing, the bolts of light sailing past, the flaming trees. There, a twisted, deformed, and massive face was inches from mine, with a large, mostly toothless mouth grinning at me. Most startling of all, however, was the single, bloodshot eye that stared at me like I was a meal.  
"Nighty night." It's voice boomed, before the pain in my back increased, and I looked down to see the tip of the blade protruding through my shirt, accompanied by a spreading dark stain. Pain like icy fire lanced through my chest, into my limbs, all through my body. I screamed, feeling my body going limp beneath me, and watching as my vision faded. I screamed and screamed and screamed, wondering what had happened, what had happened, what had-_

I jerked upright in the darkness, eyes open wide, hand already reaching for my knives. A hand was clamped firmly over my mouth, and as my right hand grasped the hilt of my knife, the other clawed at the flesh of my attacker. A firm grip wrapped over my right hand, stopping my slashing movement. I struggled for a moment, before a voice hissed in my ear, "It's me, relax!" Still shaking with fear, it took me a moment to realize that it was Halt's voice. I relaxed slightly, but tensed back up when Halt said, "I'm letting go, but don't talk - we're not alone." His hand left my mouth and wrist, and I pulled out my knife - a little too fast. There was a faint _zhhing!_ as the sheath released it, and Halt glared at me, but I was too busy wincing to notice much. As Halt turned around and started peering around the drift of snow which we had sheltered behind, I glanced around and, finding Will busy with waking Sarah, and Sarah busy with being startled, I quickly removed my outer layer of clothing and peered at my shirt, carefully examining the spot where moments ago, a stain of blood had been spreading. Nothing - it was just a nightmare. A horrible, completely illogical nightmare.  
I shrugged my warm layers of clothing back on and crept forwards to join Halt. He had to hide completely from view, as our ranger cloaks were conspicuous against the white snow. The faint indent in the snow that was the road was faintly illuminated by the moon, and I scanned it, looking for what Halt had seen or heard. There, I saw it! A slight motion from down the track, pretty distant. And now, a soft sound of rough voices.  
"How'd they find us?" I whispered, "None of our footprints could have survived in this wind!"  
Halt just shook his head, pressing a finger to his lips. Thoroughly chastised, I held my tongue, silently watching. The motion became clearer and closer, and the voices became distinguishable.  
"Cara a onde se foron?" Came one voice, and I shrunk back.  
"Escuteiro! O que viu?" came another.  
"Eu non sei! Eles parecían simplemente desaparecer polos penedos!" Replied one who I assumed was the scout.  
Halt breathed in my ear, "They're asking where we went, but it looks like we lost them by the cliffs." I nodded appreciatively, though I didn't know how he knew this.  
"Tolo!" The party finally came into view, though just barely, because they stopped as the scout reported his news. The man who had just yelled dealt the scout a heavy blow, sending him sprawling. "Estender! Atopalos!"  
Halt's breath caught slightly, as if something about these words worried him. "Now," he began, "would be a good time to find a place to hide." He army crawled back over to where Will and Sarah were frozen like deer in headlights, fearing to move lest the eyes of the Picts catch the movement, especially now that they seemed to be spreading in growing circles, searching each crevice, each nook and crannie. The four of us, not moving at all, scanned the landscape around us, but the only cover for many meters was the snow bank, and soon it would not be very concealing, once it had been passed. Feeling my heartbeat speeding up, I struggled to keep my breathing soft. Where could we hide? I looked once more, but still the only thing was the snow bank... the snow bank! Remembering a distant childhood memory, I let a grim smile flick across my lips. Little had I known then that my life would one day rely on the skills I gained.  
Using my arms like a mole, Slowly and as silently as possible, began to burrow in and down into the snow bank. I hoped the sound of snow scraping on snow would be masked by the whistling wind. I wriggled my body forward, making slow but steady headway into the snow. I just hoped it was steady enough.  
"Mira! Copias do pé!" came an eager call that was all together too close for my liking. I steadied my trembling hands for a moment against my upper arms, warming my frigid fingers, before scooping again, and wriggling the last little bit of my body forward. I was on a gentle slope, having attempted to go down so I wouldn't break through the top of the bank. For the first time, I was grateful for the deep snow. I twisted my head around as much as I could, glancing over my shoulder. My feet were maybe half a foot inside the tunnel, as best I could tell trough the clumps of snow I had left behind as I had tunneled. I realized, however, that from behind, the soles of my boots would still be visible from outside. Hoping that I wouldn't just collapse the whole thing, and that no one would notice the motion, I kicked swiftly but lightly up with my heel, before quickly bringing my knees up and in as quickly as I could. To my relief, just the very end of the tunnel collapsed, leaving me completely concealed. I let out a breath, watching as it misted before my face. I realized that my breath was shaking just as badly as my hands, and allowed myself one heavy, shuddering breath, before I regulated it once more so that no one would hear the snow bank breathing. I rolled over onto my back, slowly and carefully, so that I was facing upwards instead of downwards, though in the darkness it didn't make much difference. The tunnel was mere inches from my face as far as I could tell, and I realized just how lucky I was to not be claustrophobic in this situation.  
_CRUNCH!_ I stopped breathing for a moment as a heavy footstep sounded a mere few feet from my face. They passed on however, and I let myself breathe again. The snow over my face dripped into my eyes, and I winced, cursing silently. I wondered if the others were going through all this, or if I was the only one stupid enough to do it. I felt a flare of concern for the others, before deciding that they could probably take care of themselves.  
"Eles non están aquí!" came a call from what seemed to be directly above me, followed closely by a boot in my stomach. The air whooshed from my lungs, and I tightened my abs against the intense pressure being exerted on my internal organs. To my horror, the foot didn't move, just stood atop me as I struggled to keep my intestines from being flattened. Clearly, whoever it was didn't realize they were stepping on a human being. _A blessing and curse,_ I thought.  
"Deben estar aquí!" As the foot shifted some of it's weight off of me, I took as much of a breath as I could, while noting that the words sounded an awful lot like Spanish. _Must all come from Latin or something,_ I thought. Something about 'they should be here', I think...  
"Espere, olle, pistas de cabalos!" A voice called from some distance away, and the person to whom the foot belonged leaned on me once more, probably trying to see something. "Eles levan de volta do xeito que veu! Eles dobraron de volta!" For a brief moment, more weight than ever compressed my middle, but then it was gone entirely, replaced by a sense of relief. I took a deep gasping breath, then another and another, but it didn't matter, as all noise was drowned out by the shouting that now rose from a few meters away.  
"Eles tentaron trampas nisto!"  
"Eles pasaron a súa base!"  
"Ou tentou levar connosco aínda!"  
"NON IMPORTA!" Roared one voice above all the others. "Se seguirmos as pistas, imos atopar só o que está intentando facer!" There were mumbled words of consent from the group, and I listened as their footsteps retreated, along with their voices. I pressed my hands into the walls of my cave, making sure that they were still pliable if I had to bust my way out. I was just about to, when I froze, listening closely. Soft, crunching footsteps, passing close beside. _Sweepers!_ I thought, remembering Halt having mentioned them before, like scouts that would check behind you to be sure that a group had no trailers. I listened as the footsteps moved around, examining everything almost as closely as the other group had. When they left, I didn't move for what felt like ages, but was probably more like half an hour. Thirty minutes of torture, waiting to see if a hand would plunge down though the snow and grab me.  
Finally, deciding that if it wasn't safe now, it never would be, I rolled back onto my stomach, and wormed my way backwards, kicking though the layer of snow in my way, and worming out of one darkness and into another, slightly less dark one. The moon was now high in the sky, casting a tiny amount of light on the snow, which reflected it like a mirror. I stood and shook myself out, forcing blood into chilled limbs, and getting snow out of my hair. "Halt?" I hissed into the darkness. "Halt!" I tried again when I received no reply, slightly louder.  
I whipped around as I heard, over the wind, a _crunch crackle wish_. There, exiting the snow, were a pair of feet. And another pair, a few meters down. Apparently, my idea had been deemed best, for now three people were sliding from their hiding places. Well, I take that back. Halt and Will slid out, but Sarah slid out a few inches before bursting out full force, not waiting to slither backwards all that way.  
"That. Was. Horrible." Sarah gasped. "I always knew I was a little claustrophobic, but not like _that!_" She shuddered. "Ugh."  
"Can't say I enjoyed it too much myself." Will commented, brushing snow from his hair.  
"Don't even start." I exclaimed. "I got stepped on!"  
Sarah laughed. "Really? They stepped on you and didn't notice!" she turned to Halt. "Are there guys quite so formidable as you say if they can't even tell the difference between snow and humans?"  
Halt shook his head. "It was a close call. They were speaking some language, some form of Celtic I'd imagine, but it was close enough to Gallic that I got some of it. They found both our footprints and those of our horses. If they hadn't been wise enough to run when the Pict's got here, they would probably still be searching here and have found us. As it its, they think we've doubled back, and are only now heading towards the base."  
"Wait, the horses left?" I frowned. "How are we going to get to base now? They can't come back to us without leading the Picts right back to us again - even in this wind their tracks will be visible for a while. They're smart enough not to do that."  
Halt nodded regretfully. "It's lucky we're close to base now - it looks like we're taking the rest of the journey completely on foot."  
"And with no supplies!?" Will exclaimed, dismayed.  
"Exactly how far from base are we?" Sarah asked hopefully.  
"On foot? Maybe a week." Sarah and I groaned.  
"And we have no food?"  
"Not much." Will said. "I have a little bit in my emergency kit, and Halt does too, but it's now a week's worth, certainly not for four people. We might have two days worth on starvation rations."  
"Yay." I muttered.  
Halt stood, brushing snow from his clothes. "Well, lets get going - the sooner we start, the sooner we finish." he said.  
The only thing I wanted to do was flop back into the snow and go back to sleep, but I stood and started after him through the deep snow, followed closely by Sarah and Will.  
"Think we can make it 120 hours without food?" Sarah said as she caught up with me.  
"Well, I've made it thirty before - how much harder can this be?"  
"Try four times harder." she muttered, and I gave her a shove.  
"It's not like we have much choice - it's either make it or curl up and die."  
"Actually, I wouldn't mind the curling up part, though dying wouldn't be my first choice of activities." Sarah joked.  
"In any event we won't starve. Once we run out of fat to burn, which will take a while, even with our diminished stores of fat, our bodies will just start burning muscle cells instead - so we'll have energy one way or another." I told her.  
"Oh good, so we'll be malnourished weaklings at the end, whoopee." Sarah said. "How do you even know this?"  
"I had to take IB Bio." I told her.  
Sarah pulled out her water flask and poured a little dribble of water into her mouth, then packed snow into the empty space. "No point in waiting until I need it to make it." she explained, and I nodded, copying her motion. Gasping as the cold flask contacted my skin, I jogged to catch up with Halt, and jogging is not an easy task in knee high snow.  
The moon rose and sank, and soon I was exhausted. You know how walking in water is a lot harder than walking in air? Multiply that feeling times a thousand, and you'll understand what it's like walking in knee high snow. We paused when the sun was visible over the horizon to eat a breakfast of one piece of stale bread, before continuing on. The tension slowly built as we continued on, all of us glancing over our shoulders, heads whipping around at the faintest of noises. I found my fingers straying to the knives at my waist, while Sarah's hands continually found her bow. We were all nervous, on the edge of our seats after the close call the night before. The whipping wind soon burnt my face, and snow caked my clothing. We didn't even stop for lunch, just kept walking as we ate what little Halt and Will had in their emergency kits. Sarah and I, I realized, were in a very bad position if we were attacked; If it was a close range battle, Sarah would be extremely disadvantaged, to the point of he weapon being almost useless, while the same would be true of a long range battle for me.  
After a walking dinner and a few more hours walking after, Halt finally called a stop, and we all collapsed gratefully to the ground, burying ourselves partially in the snow before wrapping ourselves in our cloaks and falling into a dead sleep, except for the watch, who was on extra alert.  
We woke and traveled in dead silence, heads down, feet dragging through the drifts, fighting to put one foot in front of the other. I heard excerpts from OneRepublic's Marching On running on loop through my head. _Right, right, right, right left right, right, right, right left right, right, right, marchin' on..._  
On the third day, all of us were not just on edge, but on a knifes edge. As Will had predicted, we had run out of food, and so we had no breakfast, no lunch. It soon became apparent that, despite our grueling training period, Halt and Will were still in better shape than us, because soon we were trailing behind them by a fair distance, and they would have to wait for us impatiently. On the fourth time that we were found to be trailing, around noon, Halt just turned around and snapped, "Hurry up!", not stopping. We did our best, but without a meal, it was getting hard to keep going at all, much less hurry up.

I fell for the first time a couple hours later, foot catching on a piece of ice, sending me toppling. Sarah helped me up, and I took her hand gratefully, using it to pull myself up.  
Our falls became more frequent after that. Our growling bellies were a bit of a distraction, and I felt like it was getting harder to focus. Things seemed distant and far away, like in a dream. I took a swig of water. What was wrong with me?  
Then, of course, the inevitable happened. I fell, but, because I was a little ahead of Sarah, when the steep incline that we happened to be on sent me rolling downhill, I took her out with me. She fell next to me, and together we slid several meters down the mountain. I groaned, feeling cold snow on my face.  
"Watch it!" Sarah yelled, dragging herself back to her feet. "You almost killed me!" I winced as I heard genuine anger in her voice, scrabbling to stand as well.  
"Sorry." I mumbled, but she was already walking away, hurrying to make up the distance we'd lost. I shook my head. Only a few days ago we would have both laughed - now, I knew I would have reacted the same way had roles been reversed. We were all at wits end, and it was only going to get worse. In all the time I'd known Sarah, and that was nigh on ten years, we had never legitimately yelled at one another.  
It was at the end of the fifth day that I lost it. We were stopping oddly early, but we were all tired and cold, so we staggered to a stop gratefully, Sarah and I ready to drop. However, Halt's voice stopped me.  
"We stopped early so you can practice your knife throwing." he told us wearily. He pointed to a miniature glacier that was sticking through the snow a few feet ahead. "That can be your target, I think it will be soft enough for them to stick."  
I stared at Halt incredulously. "Wait wait wait. We're running across a formidable mountain, trying to rendezvous with the other rangers while running from an army several times bigger than us, and we're setting up camp because we're all exhausted, and you want me to practice my knife throwing?!"  
"Yes." he growled. "I'm your teacher, and you'll do as I say."  
I knew it was stupid, I did. There were alarms blaring in the back of my mind, screaming "Don't be stupid!", but my nerves had had enough, and I couldn't stand it any longer.  
"Well you know what? I'm not going to do any knife throwing." I crossed my arms stubbornly, "I'm going to lie down and go to sleep."  
"No, you're not. You're going to go over there and practice knife throwing until I tell you to stop." His voice was dangerously low, and I almost stopped. I should have stopped, but I'm stupid and I didn't. Apparently, the haze that had been settling over me all day, was also clouding my judgment.  
"Make me!" I snarled. For a moment, neither of us said anything, just glaring at each other. Sarah and Will, off to one side, watched us with startled expressions on their faces. Without warning, Halt lunged forward, grabbing my wrist and dragging me close.  
"You forget," he hissed, "That I am the one who has taught you all you know, and I know the exact extent of your abilities. That said, believe me when I say that I could easily make you do whatever I wanted."  
"Try it!" I hissed back, before throwing a close shot at his stomach with my free hand. He easily blocked the strike, sending it wide.  
"Nice punch, good form." he said mockingly, anger boiling underneath the outwardly calm appearance; his eyes were dark with it. "But you can't hit me."He threw my wrist away. "Not get to work." He took a step backwards, ending the confrontation, but I, like an idiot, wasn't finished. With a snarl, I took a step forward to close the distance he'd created and slammed my fist towards him again, not aiming for any particular target, just wanting to hit something. Without any sign of surprise, he blocked the blow with contemptuous ease, along with the ones I followed up with.  
Looking back, I have no idea what got into me. Had I been in my right mind, I would not have done what I did because 1) I was totally outmatched and 2) what I was about to do could make Halt's injury a thousand times worse. I think the combination of no food, the cold, the tension of being so close to the enemy, and the endless marching was what had built up the stores of frustration and anger, and the command to keep working when I had thought I was done was just what set me off.  
I continued my assault, using a combination of kicks and punches to try and hit him in any way I could, not really thinking, just fighting. Halt didn't strike back, just blocked each attack with ease, an impassive expression on his face through the entire ordeal. A few minutes in, I did manage to land one blow on him - I aimed a huge crescent kick aimed at his collar, and he blocked with an overhead block. However, I still had momentum, so my leg slid off the block and onto his shoulder. Though it was devoid of much power, it was still a small victory.  
However, as the fight continued and it became apparent that in my pointless rage, I wasn't going to be stopping any time soon, Halt became bored with the confrontation. I threw a back kick at him, and he blocked it with unusual ferocity, throwing me off balance while I faced away from him. I stumbled back, pinwheeling my arms. I felt Halt's strong arms slide under mine, then wrap back around so they both were against the back of my neck in a full nelson. (Or what we call a full nelson. I'm sure they called it something else.) I gasped and quickly braced my hands against my forehead, one hand a fist with the other clamped over it, counteracting any force to my neck. I knew how easy it was to break an opponent's neck in a full nelson, and I knew that Halt had more than enough strength to break it, even on accident.  
I scanned my brain, which was working in overdrive. How to get out of this, I used to know... Ah! I only remembered one, but it would have to do. I continued the pressure on my forehead for a moment, before straightening my arm and dropping straight down out from under his arms. I would then roll back between his legs and kick upward. Unfortunately, It never got that far.  
"Oh no you don't." came the growl, and I felt huge pressure on my ribs, applied by Halt's elbows which had been resting on my sides, and now acted as clamps, holding me up. I yelped, feeling my ribs creak with the pressure, and quickly stood again, replacing my hands. There was slightly more pressure on my neck now, a warning.  
"Down." He pressed down, trying to get me to my knees. Intentionally or not, it also added pressure to my neck, and I cried out as I tried to press that much back to counteract it properly. It was taking all my concentration to keep my muscles flexed completely, so I remained standing by default.  
"I said, down." the last word coinciding with a hard knee in the back of mine. There was no option but to collapse onto the hard ground, kneeling. He came down with me, keeping the nelson on my neck. A single fearful tear rolled down my cheek, and I quickly turned my face down so Halt couldn't see. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Sarah and Will standing right where they'd been before, eyes wide, apparently too frightened to help me. And thinking back I don't blame them.  
"Maybe this will teach you some respect." He snarled, pushing slightly harder on my neck, enough for me to feel my counter pressure failing, and I cried out, fear bubbling up to the boiling point, before he let me go, using an elbow to shove me face down into the snow. He stood, and as I rolled over I saw him start towards a small mound of snow, where, without another word, he laid down and wrapped himself in his coat, apparently falling asleep. I sat up, rubbing snow from my eyes. Will looked at me for a long moment, before murmuring, "That was really, really stupid." and going over to Halt. I'm not sure whether they talked or not, because in the mean time, Sarah was coming over and helping me to my feet.  
"He's right." she said softly.  
"I know." I replied, hiding a wince as my voice cracked. "I kind of don't want to talk about it."  
"Okay." she nodded, before continuing, "But if you ever do, I'm here." she gave me a grim smile. "I can't tell what kind of advice you'll get, but I'm here none the less."  
"Thanks." I replied, before she went and lied down a little ways from our mentors, not wanting to take sides. I, on the other hand, walked back a ways the way we came, until I came to a small outcropping we had passed earlier. It was a drop off, which we had passed below before, and then passed atop of half an hour earlier that day. It only took me a couple minutes coming back down. I sat on the edge, letting my feet dangle. I rested my elbows on my thighs and buried my face in my hands, twining fingers through my hair so tightly it was painful. "What am I so stupid sometimes?" I asked myself ferociously, lifting my head. "Obviously I can't beat Halt! What the hell's wrong with me!" I picked up a chunk of ice a few feet away and threw it as hard as I could, watching as it arced through the air and them came back down into he snow below. "I can't beat him, and there was no reason to pick a fight." I sat there, watching the reddening sun drop behind the other mountain peaks. I couldn't believe we'd come so far into the mountains in a couple of weeks. I couldn't believe we'd come so far, period. Home was across multiple countries and an ocean, not to mention several centuries of time. I rubbed my neck where Halt's hands had left bruises, and winced. "Why did it have to be me who broke first under the tension?" I asked the wind that blew a few strands of hair across my face. Feeling gloomy, I untied my hair, letting it blow freely in the wind. I hadn't taken it down in multiple days, I realized, and the feeling of letting it fall loose seemed to take away some of my anxiety, though I knew it was only temporary. The chill fingers of the wind teased my hair around my face, finding it's way to my scalp and freezing that too.  
I watched the sun set, letting myself be plunged into darkness, before I stood, stretching my cramped muscles and turning from the cliff's edge. I contemplated going back to join the others, but decided against it, thinking that if they left without me, I could always follow their foot prints. Instead, I dug out a small circle of snow, making shallow walls around my cleared off area, then laid down in my small fort, the walls shielding me from the wind. I felt warmer than I had all day, and I wrapped my coat tightly around me. I wondered if the Scotti would find me here if they caught up, then decided that, with only one set of foot prints, they would opt for the larger party instead, if the footprints weren't swept away by the wind. Those were my last thoughts before I fell into a fitful slumber.

* * *

Not surprisingly, it wasn't Halt that came and got me the next morning - it was Sarah. She had trouble finding me though as, just as I had suspected would happen, the wind had blown away my prints after I left the road. She followed my footsteps to that point, and then started calling my name. As I woke, bleary eyes and covered in a light layer of snow, I could hear her voice.  
"I'm here!" I called back hoarsely, sitting up and stretching muscles that had cramped with the cold.  
"Thank goodness!" Sarah responded, trudging through the snow as fast as she could. "I was afraid you'd fallen off that cliff in the dark!"  
I smiled gratefully as she offered me her hand. "Naw, not quite _that_ clumsy." Sarah pulled me up with relative ease, reminding me of how much stronger we'd both become.  
She smiled back, but it faded quickly. "Well, we'd better hurry. Halt wants to get going soon."  
"K." I brushed myself off, then followed Sarah back the way she'd come. When we got back to where the camp had been, we found that we were too late - they'd already moved on. However, it seemed that Will had taken pity on us, and had left us an arrow of sticks so we knew for sure which direction they had gone, though their fresh footprints were still clear. However, if he hadn't left the arrow, I admit I would have been double guessing myself the whole time, as the footprints seemed to be going in the entirely wrong direction. It occurred to me that Halt may have been been trying to lead me astray too, not just our pursuers, but I discarded the notion, partially because I disliked what that con-notated, but partially because of what I knew of people. Mentors and students bonded like parent and child, at least as far as I could tell from my reading and from what I had experienced; moreover, Halt had known me, or at least some form of me, for longer than I'd known him, so that bond would already be fairly strong for him. And I know for a fact that no matter how bad a thing you do, your parents don't just leave you to die on a mountain side. No, Halt had some alternative motive for taking this round about route.  
We figured out what that motive was about an hour later when, still not having caught up with our mentors, we had to frantically pull up out pace as, our eyes fixed firmly on the footprints before us, we neglected to notice the cliff we just about walked off of. Confused, we looked around, searching for which direction the footprints continued in, but saw no sign of them - they seemed to end in a small scuffle right on the edge. "Great." I muttered, though the sound was loud in the silence.  
"Wait, check this out." Sarah called to me softly. She was lying on her belly, peering over the cliff edge, pointing towards the ground. "This is why they took this route; you have to drop onto this ledge here!" I laid on my stomach beside her, peeking down. Indeed, there a few feet below us was a narrow snowy ledge, beneath which the cliff continued at what appeared to be a past vertical slant. The ledge was long, like a road back home that had been blasted into the side of the mountain for cars to drive up. It was clear that this was the only way onto the ledge.  
"Not a half bad way to hide a secret headquarters." Sarah commented, and I nodded agreement.  
"Yeah." I sat for a moment, before saying with dread, "How do you suppose we get down there without toppling over the edge?"  
Sarah gulped. "Um... jump and hope for the best?"  
I winced. "Hoping you wouldn't say that." I looked around for any other solution. "Don't suppose you've got any rope?"  
"You suppose correctly." Sarah replied, sitting up. "And even if we did, it'd be a bit of a giveaway, leaving a rope hanging there."  
Sighing, I lowered half of myself over the edge so my stomach was taking all my weight. "Well, here goes nothing." Slithering backwards, lowered myself down to the elbows, then until I was hanging by only my hands, arms completely extended. I told myself that there was only three feet below me, but my stomach remained clenched with fear. I breathed in, breathed out, and then dropped.  
I hit the ledge and, resisting the urge to step backwards to regain my balance, I instead leaned forward into the cliff face, cheek pressed against the icy smooth stone. For a moment I didn't move, waiting to make sure the stone wouldn't crumble. Then, confident in my position, I tipped my head back and said, "As long as you lean forward instead of back when you land, you should be fine! The drop isn't too far, just a foot or two!" Sarah repeated my actions, if a little more warily due to her fear of heights. She landed beside me, and despite the fact that it was clear she wasn't going to fall, I put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. She nodded to me in acknowledgement, and I returned the action.  
Presently, I remembered that out ultimate goal wasn't to get onto the ledge, it was to keep following Halt and Wills' footprints. I pointed to our left. "That way."  
"Not for long, I hope." Sarah muttered, peering surreptitiously over the edge. "That's a long drop."  
"We can only hope." I replied, before taking the lead on the narrow ledge. It was a good three hours that we walked, with no sign of joining with another path, before we finally came to... a dead end.  
"Okay, no." Sarah stopped dead in her tracks. "We did not just come all this way only to go back."  
"Wait, calm down," I said. "Halt and Will didn't go back, or we would have seen their footprints double back. Let's see if we can see where they went." Together, we continued to the wall that blocked our way, watching the footprints that had led us carefully until they came to a place where many feet had tread, not all of them Halt or Will's, right next the the wall. Their direction afterwards was unclear, so we looked all over - the wall back up was unclimbable, and the drop below us was too far to jump down and too smooth the climb, and they didn't go back. It appeared as if they had just... vanished.  
"D'you think they fell? Or got pushed?" Sarah asked, eying the edge.  
"No, we'd see them down there if they'd fallen." I pressed my hand against the wall. "Look, one of the footprints stops in the middle of this wall- how on earth...?"  
Sarah came over to examine the wall as well, crouching to look at the print I'd pointed out. She pressed her palm to the stone, then frowned. "Wait..."  
"What?"  
"Well, all the other stone has been as cold as ice. But this... is just normal temperature. Warm, even." I frowned as I noted that what she said was true. I rapped my knuckles against the wall, and was rewarded with a hollow _thunk_. I grinned. "Sarah, you're a genius. This is a false wall- no wonder it's so flat! Now all we have to do is figure out how to move it."  
"Like this!" came a voice from no where, and suddenly the wall vanished from under our hands, making us squeak and jump back in fright. It was swinging inwards, into a dark hole. Soon, a cloaked figure came into view, stepping out from behind the false wall, which he had presumably pulled open. "Well don't just stand there - you're going to make me late for dinner!" Thoroughly chastised and not at all reluctant to obey the order, we hurriedly stepped inside while the figure swung the false wall back shut. It fit together seamlessly, letting not even a sliver of light through. The figure grabbed a torch from a wall bracket and brushed away snow from his cloak, flipping back his cowl.  
"Justin!" I said, surprised. "How'd you get here?"  
Justin laughed. "Same way you did I'd guess. Wasn't that drop onto the ledge fun?" From the sarcasm in his voice on the last sentence I could guess he wasn't a fan of heights either.  
"No but I mean-" I stopped, wondering if Justin knew all that we did. "I mean, who did you come with?"  
Justin's face grew grave. "Oh. Yeah. Um, I came with... Ian and his master Bramm." It seemed he had more information about things than we did, but he did not elaborate. He forced a smile as he said, "Well come on; we don't have all day." We followed him down the long passage, hemmed in by his circle of light. The corridor seemed endless, but with every step I could feel the air getting warmer, the chill that had seeped to my bones beginning to loosen it's grip. As I spotted a speck of light at the end of the tunnel, I pulled off my thick down coat, feeling too warm in it. The light grew closer, and I heard a murmur of voices, which slowly grew louder until it was clear that there was a fair number of people here.  
"They're here!" Justin declared in a loud voice as we entered a large cavern. It was large and shaped into a vague dome, the walls smooth as a granite counter top. I'm not sure what stone it was, but it was a warm brown, and lit by torches hung in brackets on the walls, it was almost a homey color. There were spots on the ceiling and floor where the smooth veneer that everything else had wasn't present - there were some deep gouges and dents in the surface, speaking of where a stalactite or stalagmite had been removed. Spread about the room were several tables, many chairs, and other furniture, all sitting about a large fire, over which a large pot was sitting, releasing a steam that was laced with a hearty smell. All around sat rangers, some in their cloaks, others in more casual dress, getting ready to dine.  
In response to Justin's announcement, people called greetings, waving to us and smiling. It occurred to me that when we'd last met they had been at least a little disdainful of our memory loss, but it seemed that when there was the chance of death, even those who had looked down on you are glad to see you alive. Weird, but there you have it. I looked around the room, and saw Will beckoning us over, but noted that Halt was not present, along with several other more senior rangers. Bringing Justin with us, we walked over to the table at which Will sat and pulled chairs over, sitting as whoever was cooking began dishing out a thick stew. Our table was served almost first, and Sarah and I gulped down the meal like starved animals, barely tasting the filling mix. As we finished, I could feel the warmth spreading through my body, making me drowsy. The idea that we were actually safe from our pursuers, at least for now, was starting to sink in, along with the exhaustion of many weeks of little rest.

"Hey Will?" I said, and he turned from another person at the table who he had been talking to, "Do we get our own rooms or-"  
"You and Sarah get your own room because ... well you know. It's down that hallway, second room on the left. We're all the first room, so if you need us for any reason we'll be in there." He smiled. "We all need a good night's rest." For the first time I noticed the dark circles under his eyes, and wondered if I had them myself.

With a grateful, if weary smile, I started towards the hallway Will had indicated, Sarah following close behind. We were glad to find the hallway and then the room well lit with torches. Our room had two small hammocks strung from two large eye hooks in the wall, but it was clear from the row of other hooks that many more hammocks could be put up in here. I claimed one by flopping onto it unceremoniously, letting out a heavy sigh. I shut my eyes for what seemed to be only a brief moment, but when I opened them again all the torches but one had been extinguished and Sarah was wrapped in a rough wool blanket in her hammock. As I sat up, I realized that she must have also brought me one, because I too was cocooned in a blanket. Frowning, I wondered what had woken me - I had been tired enough to sleep until noon. Now I listened carefully, certain that something had occurred to cause me to wake, but I heard nothing. Silently, I extricated myself from my blanket and padded silently to the doorway, peering into the hall. Down at the very end of the hall, I saw just a flash of light in the main room, very faint, before it disappeared. Suspicious, but not wanting to be the boy who cried wolf, I jogged as quietly as I could down the hall, until I came into the main hall. There was no torch lit in the main room, so I could see nothing but a faint glow from the hallway from which we had entered, and then a slightly brighter glow from another hallway that branched off in a different direction. The brighter glow was the one that more likely held whoever had the torch, for I was sure now that that was the source of the light I'd seen. I moved to that hallway and peered around the corner, just in time to see a figure, lit by a flickering flame, turn into a room or hallway and disappear. I followed, conscious now of another noise, a churning hiss that I couldn't quite identify. As I approached the place where I'd seen the figure turn, it grew louder and deeper, until it was a low roar. I turned into the entryway, and the noise became clearer, and I knew what it was - the sound of rushing water.  
The figure was standing silently, the torch now deposited in a wall bracket. He was looking at what appeared to be a river that came out of one wall and disappeared into the other. The light from the flames reflected off the water, making a flickering collage of light on every surface.  
Wishing I had my cloak still so I could move to see who this person was without being seen (hopefully), I watched silently. The person hadn't made any move to do anything, and didn't look to be leaving soon, so I decided it probably wasn't someone who was an enemy. This decision made, I walked up to stand beside them, making sure my steps scuffed a bit so I wouldn't surprise them. As I did so, the figure turned to look at me, and I was bewildered to find it was Justin, looking as grim as he had earlier at the door.  
"Couldn't sleep either?" he asked me, looking back towards the rush of water.  
"No, I thought you we a Pict." I said, reaching back to rub the back of my neck, which was cramped where I'd slept on it weird.  
"Ah." We fell into silence as the water kept on churning by. I cleared my throat and broke it. "So what's this?"  
"It's an underground stream, common around here. This is where we get our water. I wouldn't recommend getting it on your skin though, the only thing that keeps that water from freezing is it's movement, so it's absolutely frigid."  
"It's beautiful." I commented, moving to sit against the wall under the torch. After a moment, Justin joined me, sitting on the other side of the torch so neither of us was in the other's shadow.  
"Yeah. It's nice, because you don't have to worry about anyone walking in on you in here on accident - no one's going to the place where we fetch water in the middle of the night." It seems he's a regular here.  
"Except me." I point out, and he chuckles softly.  
"Yeah. Except you." We once again fell into silence, but this time it's wasn't awkward, more like companionable. We sat there for a long time, long enough that I had started to doze off when Justin next spoke. "Did you know? About Gillan, I mean."  
I gulped, realizing that this was a touchy subject. "Um... sort of. I mean, we found his knives, but we weren't sure..."  
Justin nodded grimly, then fell back into silence. I was all tensed up , unsure how to continue, so I was relieved when he continued for me.  
"I saw it. All of it." He was staring at a spot on the far wall as he spoke. "We ran down a hallway, but then we got cornered. We fought for a long time, but more warriors kept coming. Finally, at some point, Gillan managed to force a gap into the attack, an escape route. He yelled at me to run, and I did, assuming he'd follow, but the instant I was out a warrior slashed out and caught him in the back of the knee where I had been protecting before - it distracted him enough to make him let gap he'd created disappear. He was trapped and wounded. I tried to help, but it did no good, and only earned me this." He pulls back his sleeve, revealing a long, ugly purple scar that puckered his forearm, clearly just recently healed enough to remove the stitches that had undoubtedly held it together. "I didn't want to leave, but I didn't have any choice - Gillan had already lost, there was no way he could win against so many foes with the kind of injury he'd already received, and even if he hadn't been hurt the corridor wasn't big enough for him to get a good swing with his sword, and he'd spent one of his knives on a throw so I could escape unharmed, so he had no defense against the swords of the Scotti. They were beginning to turn on me, and I with my arm hurt I couldn't do anything to defend myself either. I ran, fetched Løpe (pronounced Luepa), and galloped away as fast as I could. It was dumb luck that I found Bramm and Ian in the forest - if I hadn't I'm not sure I could have survived for long with the wound I'd received. As it was, Bramm knew how to stitch me up, so I survived with minimal damage. We met up with a larger group at the port we sailed out of, I forget what it was, and we made it here all together." I saw him blink back tears as he spoke, once reaching up to rub his eyes. "The fact of the matter is, if I hadn't ran away from that fight, like a coward, Gillan wouldn't have died."  
I thought on his words for a while, listening to the constant din of the water. "Well, that's not quite right, is it?" I said softly, but Justin rounded on me.  
"Don't give me that!" he snapped, his voice loud enough now to echo in the chamber. "I've heard it all already, and even if it's true it doesn't make me feel any better, so just don't, okay?!"  
Startled, but aware that trying to help could very well hurt in this instance, I simply nodded, looking away. I heard his breathing become ragged, and I knew he was either struggling to hold back tears, or failing at it. I didn't look over, knowing that having people watch you while you cry only makes things worse, but I gently placed my hand over his to let him know I was there, and that he could trust me. As, after a while, his breathing grew even again, he flipped his hand and took mine in his own. "Okay, your turn." he murmured.  
I sighed, pressing my head to to wall with my eyes shut for a moment to collect myself, before I said, "Halt and I got in a bit of an argument."  
"What? That's it?" he nudged me with his elbow. "I spilled my guts, now you've got to too." His tone of voice already sounded lighter, as if the story had been weighing him down, and now that he had told it out loud, completely, it had been lifted.  
I elbowed him back, smiling slightly before it fell away again. Though I didn't feel in danger of crying, I used the same technique Justin had, staring at the wall so I didn't have to look at him.  
"Well... we were being followed by the Scotti, right? But we didn't know how closely. We almost got caught, and were only saved by our horses' quick thinking - however this meant no horses and no supplies halfway up a mountain. So, we were all starving and frigid for a week. One day, Halt let us stop early, I assumed so we could rest, but instead he told us we were going to do some training. Being hungry, cold, and on edge that the Scotti would ambush us at any moment, I sorta... lost my mind for a moment and kind of threw a punch at him. It escalated from there, and, as you might imagine, Halt won. I thought... for a minute, I thought he was going to kill me. We were both really mad at each other, so I left and went to sleep further down the trail where we'd already been. Sarah came back to get me, but Halt had already left with Will when we got back, so that's why we're late. I don't think Halt feels like forgiving me any time soon." I smiled grimly. "I've worn his tolerance just a hair too thin."  
"Why do you say that?" Justin asked, glancing at me. "I'm sure you were all snapping at each other in that kind of situation."  
"Yes, but I also apparently lost my mind a few months ago, and ruined all his hard work of training me from before that, so..." I looked at him. "I'd be mad too."  
Justin and I exchanged looks, both knowing what the other was thinking but not saying - that it wasn't the others fault, and that it was our own fault, no matter what the other said. Finally, I broke the moment, standing and stretching.  
"I'm going back to bed - you should too." I left him the torch, slipping down the hall, through the main hall, down our hall, and into my room and hammock, before once more falling into a deep slumber. The only thing I though before I fell asleep was that maybe, just maybe, talking about things really did help.

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**So yeah, everyone was OOC during that chapter, but that was kind of the point... you know, how people change under duress, etc. Hope it works in context, if it doesn't, well it doesn't happen again (I don't think) so... ja.**


	17. Chapter 16:Wild Horses

**A/N: Okay, so I just watched all three LOTR's in a row, extended edition, so in my defence, I am not really in Ranger mode at this moment in time. That said, I am just editing, so with any luck this won't matter. :) Thank you for your reviews and such!**

**FarmersDaughter: ...Maybe...**

**Tessi: Oh, I'm glad you liked that scene! I liked it too, I thought it up one day in school, and I just had to include it somewhere. However, I hate to say it, but Halt is the type who likes to hold grudges, so the apology might have to wait... until next chapter? Or maybe the chapter after that. And you aren't going to like it, either, let me tell you that. BWA HA HA HA *cough cough*.**

**And, this being the holiday time and such, I wish you a very happy holidays, and also would like to inform you that I will likely not update until a few days into the new year, as my computer/ internet access will be limited. So, have fun, spend time with your family, etc. **

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I woke the next morning to Sarah's hands shaking me awake. "C'mon, wake up, breakfast's almost over!" she chided me. I flipped over, pulling my blanket over my head. Sarah, apparently fed up, grabbed one side of my hammock and yanked up with all her recently acquired strength. Needless to say, I went crashing to the ground with a dull thud. "Get up!" she commanded.  
"If you hadn't shattered my pelvis, maybe I'd be a bit more eager." I muttered, staggering to my feet and tossing my blanket aside. _I must have been out longer than I'd thought_, I decided, following Sarah groggily down the hall. I wondered if this was how Sarah had felt every single time Shayna and I had tried to wake her when we had slept at her house. The thought made me smile a little.  
"Well it's about time!" Will called to us. "You're lucky we've any food left!" He gestured to two bowls of steaming oatmeal. We hurried over and started wolfing it down, just as hungry as the night before. Halt was sitting across from Will, and he nodded acknowledgment of our presence, but offered nothing more. I felt a sting of hurt in my chest, but I knew that I'd screwed up bad - I couldn't expect it to be better overnight.  
Finishing our meals, Will informed us that we were to be outfitted with new gear to replace that which we had lost, which would be all of it. We were led down the hall I'd gone through the night before, past the water room, and into a massive cavern almost the size of the main hall. It's walls weren't smoothed out like the rest of the rooms were, but there was no real need to - the walls were not going to be a problem here. The room was packed full of shelves, each holding massive stores of ranger equipment. I could see whole racks of knives and scabbards, bow strings, longbows, recurves, strikers, cloaks, boots, uniforms, the whole package. A man was sitting at the very front of the room on the stump of a stalagmite, his hair very grayed and his skin wrinkled; he did not wear ranger attire, but instead the wear of a blacksmith or carpenter. Will, nodding to the man, took his leave, so it was just the man, Sarah, and I.  
"So, you're the girl rangers." The man leaned forward,examining us. "The first, I believe. You should be proud - that's quite the accomplishment."  
We murmured variations on 'Thanks', unsure what to say. Sensing our awkwardness, he broke the silence, sticking out his hand. "I'm Fletcher." We introduced ourselves, and he said, "Why, what unusual names - can't say I've heard those before... anyways. You're here to restock your equipment, not to blather on about names." It had never occurred to me that our names would be strange here.  
He started with our missing weapons, so we each had a bow, two knives, and a pair of strikers. After a bit of haggling, we also managed to get Fletcher to give us each a first aid kit. As he led us to get new cloaks, I asked him, "Fletcher, why aren't you dressed like us?"  
He smiled at me. "Because of this." He wrapped a finger around a chain at his neck and pulled up, revealing a small golden pendant with the oak leaf insignia on it. "I'm retired; I've gotten just a hair too old, but I didn't want to give this up entirely, so I learned how to make all of the things you could possibly need in our trade. Ah, here we are..." He stopped at a rack of hanging cloaks, right next to a shelf stocked with the brown clothes we all wore beneath our cloaks. "You'd probably be wanting some new clothes too - here, you try on some cloaks and I'll try and tailor some shirts to your figures - can't have some loose cloth rustling and giving away, now can we? Pants as well, I think."

He strode off, and I thought _Well if anything it'll all be too tight on me,_ before I paused and took a moment to really look at myself. I realized that I was much, _much_ thinner than when I'd left home - I actually had a figure for him to tailor to. Sarah too, I realized, had slimmed - we'd gained muscle, but lost fat, and lots of it.  
Shaking the thoughts away, I started trying on the cloaks, seeing which ones would be able to conceal me the best. I had just settled on one when Fletcher came back, bearing two sets of clothing. "There are changing screens in the back." he told us, handing us each a stack of clothes. "See how these fit, and then I can fix them up even a little more when you're wearing them, get them just right." We glanced at each other, wishing more than anything that we could just skip this part of the day, but went back to change into the new, still creased clothes. After I had finished, I stepped back out, examining myself. Fletcher eyed me, then ushered me to a small pedestal, where he made me stand with my arms out as he pinned pieces of cloth here and there, then stitched them up. To my surprise, he didn't prick me even once with a pin or a needle.

When he was done, the clothes felt perfect, comfortable. Fletcher finished with Sarah's fitting, then smiled at us and said, "I'll have another set ready later - you can either leave and come back, or hang around 'till I'm finished." We nodded, then headed out, winding through the many shelves. We were just about out of the room, before I froze and stared at one particular shelf. "Fletcher?"  
"Yeah?"  
I gulped, fearing the answer slightly. "The horses - they couldn't come down that ledge to get here, could they? How are they supposed to get here?" I stared at the shelf of saddles, trying to distract myself from the moment.  
"Well, they're trained to go to a secret door much like the one you came in, and the person on watch in the stables upstairs will see them and let them in, then come let the owner know they got there safely. Didn't someone come tell you yesterday?" Fletcher gave the entire explanation casually, but as he finished up wit that last sentence, I could hear in his voice the same concern and dread that I was feeling twist my innards.  
"No." Sarah and I exchanged looks, Sarah looking more worried than I. She had already had her horse 'die' once, and now it was happening again, possibly for real this time. "They led the Scotti away from us when we were about to be discovered, and they didn't come back." I gestured to Sarah at the door, blinking rapidly. "Thanks for your help Fletcher." We hurried out of there, unable to speak for a moment as we took in the potential peril our horses were in.  
"They might just be trying to work their way back without getting seen by the Scotti." Sarah offered, and I nodded a little to vigorously.  
"Yes. I'm sure that's it." I replied, shutting my eyes tight and then opening them again, trying to control my already ragged breathing. In such a relatively short time, I had become very, _very_ attached to Tiron, and losing him seemed one of the most horrible calamities that could possibly occur. I tried to purge myself of the thoughts racing through my head of every horrible ending that could have befallen my dear friend, but still the scenarios continued to create themselves. I was only snapped from my haze by a sound that, though it distracted me from one predicament, warned of an even worse one - the sound of several dozens of rangers yelling in panic.

Without hesitation, Sarah and I raced down the hallway, thoughts of our horses for a moment brushed aside as we heard words like "Scotti... here... form up... bring weapons!" I pulled out my saxe knife as we ran through the main room and down the hallway to the door, cursing my lack of a bow, before skidding to a stop where all the others had clumped, maybe fifty meters from the door. Crowley hushed us all, and as we fell silent, we could hear a regular, dull thudding on the door, followed by a series of indistinct shouts from the other side, the words blurred by the wood in the way. The Scotti were here.  
"Someone go over and release the lever that opens the door, and the rest of us form up to shoot whoever comes through here." Halt ordered, pulling and arrow from his quiver and nocking it on the bowstring. I examined the door's mechanism - it involved a rope tied to a bag full of something heavy, which, when a lever was pulled down, the bag was pulled up and released the pressure on the spring loaded hinges, and then when the lever was released, the bag would snap back down, dragging the door shut. The bag was going up and down slightly with every impact on the door, and I realized that it was all that was holding the door closed. Vaguely curious as to how the first people here got in, I watched as little Ian stepped out of the line of formed up shooters, being the youngest and least experienced in shooting, even compared to Sarah and I. I blinked, then said, "Wait, Ian stop." He froze, looking back at me, confused. I saw a solution that didn't involve any of us going towards the entry.  
"Ian, go release the door." Halt said calmly, not acknowledging me at all.  
"Ian, wait." The boy stopped again, looking conflicted. "Halt, listen, I see a better way!"  
"Ian, do as I say!" Halt snapped, and the boy took yet another step towards the door.  
"He''ll be in extreme and unnecessary danger! Ian, stop." I grabbed him by the forearm and dragged him back when he didn't listen to me this time.  
Still refusing to say anything to me, Halt said, "Ian, do it!" Ian twisted out of my grasp, being almost as big as me and equally as strong, and hurried towards the door.  
"Ian, stop!" he ignored me as he strode quickly towards the door, closing the distance with unfortunate speed. He had already crossed ten of the meters at his quickened pace when I decided. I pulled out my throwing knife, replacing my saxe, and flipped it around so I held it's tip between my fingers. Sarah grabbed my arm, hissing, "What are you doing? Just let it be!"

Not having time at the pace that Ian was setting to respond, I impatiently shook Sarah off and, in one motion, pulled back and threw the knife. It flashed through the air with more speed than I'd ever seen one of my knives go, and straighter than I'd known I could throw. It passed Ian, making him flinch, and then embedded itself in the rope that held the door shut, slicing almost through the cord. In only moments, the weight of the bag had snapped the few remaining strands that had connected the two pieces of cord, releasing the mechanism and letting the door swing free. However, when my knife had hit the rope, it's tip had scraped the stone, making a horrid screech, and it seemed whoever was outside had heard it, and had paused in their work. The door drifted open an inch, and stayed that was for a few moments, letting an icy draft of air in. I leaned back and whispered to Sarah at a volume that I myself could barely hear, "I was doing that." Then I removed my saxe from it's sheath again, ready for whoever might be coming through that door. Sarah, beside me nodded curtly as she drew her bow back to a partial draw, a position she could now hold for a long time.  
A shadow fell across the sliver of light the opening in the door was letting in, and everyone tensed, Sarah pulling back to full draw. It crept inwards, in a way you might expect for it to creak, but it was utterly silent, making it somehow more eerie. Everyone was waiting on the moment when the door would reveal whoever was behind it, only to have a dozen arrows embedded in him. We could see a foot now, and I saw several arrows angled down to aim at it as well. You could feel the tension in the air, wondering how many would be behind the door when it opened, and how many we could hold off for how long.  
The feeling was shattered as a voice said, "Hello? Anyone there...?"

Will made an incredulous choking noise, instantly releasing the tension on his bow and replacing the arrow. It took only a few more moments for Halt to do the same, ordering softly, "Stand down." Everyone else, more than a little confused, did as he said, as the pair hurried forwards. I felt like I should know the voice as well, but I couldn't quite place it.  
Will threw open the door, making the figure on the other side jump with fright and stagger back. The light that was suddenly allowed in was shockingly bright compared to the torches in the caves, blinding me for a moment. I threw up my hand to block the light and tried to peer into the doorway. Failing that, I simply shut my eyes and listened, trying to hear what was transpiring. I had missed the beginning of the sentence, but I could hear Will saying, "... you're here! We thought you were dead for sure!"  
"Almost." the other voice said gravely. "I came unfortunately close, as did Cassandra. We were attacked by pirates, from Scotti of all places, on our way to Nihon-Ja."  
"Horace!" Sarah exclaimed, and my eyes widened with surprise. "What are you doing here?"  
Horace looked at us and a weary smile graced his face for a few moments. "What do you think? Coming to find you." Then the smile faded. "It took me long enough too. Oh, and can someone go get the hangar for the horses..." He nodded gratefully at one of the rangers as he volunteered and started down the hallway, presumably to open the hangar that Sarah and I had been told about. I felt another wave of sadness as I thought about our horses, who might never arrive at the hanger.  
"Come on Horace, let's get you something to eat - you look exhausted!" Will exclaimed, ushering his friend inside. Everyone stepped aside to let him through, then hurried after him. As we did so, Sarah leaned towards me and whispered in my ear, "Why did he say hors_es_? Why not just horse, or even by name?"  
I shrugged. "Probably misspoke." I replied, but Sarah didn't look convinced. I gave her a look. "Don't you think he would have told Will if he'd picked up four extra horses on the way, one of whom conveniently looked like Tug?" It was Sarah's turn to shrug.  
"I guess we'll find out." She said. I couldn't really argue with that.  
Horace was seated at a table with Halt and Will, conversing softly as he was given the first serving of an early lunch. We quietly joined their table, trying not to interrupt their conversation while also joining in.  
"...didn't bring Cassandra, much to her dismay."  
"And how on earth did you stop her from coming?" Halt queried, looking doubtful.  
"I pointed out she was over five months pregnant and it would not be a good idea for her to be running around fighting. It took a bit of bickering, but she finally conceded." Horace finished his meal and asked for seconds as I was taking my fifth or sixth bite.  
Will gave Halt a look as Horace mentioned Cassandra's pregnancy, and Halt gave him a look that said, _Don't worry, she'll be fine._ Then, he glanced at me, face blank of expression, and looked back to Horace. Inwardly, I groaned. How long was this going to go on? Days? Weeks? Months?  
Horace received his seconds, turning around to thank whoever had brought it to him, then grinned as he looked past that person to the far side of the room. "But, look who I did bring!"  
We all turned to look, and Halt and Will both gaped, though I had never seen the man before. "Old Bob!" Halt exclaimed. "How did you manage the trip you old piece of work?" He stood and the pair clapped hands, as did Will.  
"You underestimate me, Ranger." Old Bob said with a cackle. "I'm not as old as you'd like me t'be."  
"Why didn't you tell us, Horace?" Sarah demanded, and he laughed.  
"I figured you could use a pleasant surprise."  
"Did you manage to bring all your horses, Old Bob?" Will asked.  
Old Bob smiled at him. "Ev'ry one of em, young Will. And I tell you, ol' Bellerophon is mighty excited t'see you again!" He paused, kindly smile turning into a mischievous grin. "But I think you'll be more interested in a few o' some horses I picked up on the way here. Four of them there were, and they all looked mighty familiar. I called em over, and low and behold four Ranger horses wandering all over these blasted mountains without a single rider!" As Old Bob had continued, three of the four of us (Halt, as always, was too composed) leaned forwards, wondering if he was saying what we thought he was saying. When he finished, Sarah and I said, together, "Our horses!"  
"If not yours then I don't know whose, young missus." He grinned. "G'on. Get out of here before your explode." Sarah and I needed no more urging. We almost knocked our chairs over with our eagerness to see our steeds. Together we raced down the hallway, trying each door we came to until we came to one that contained a ladder. Seeming as likely as anything, we started our way up. About halfway up the long ladder, Sarah, who was ahead of me, stopped.  
"Hey! Keep going!" I urged, and she did, albeit slower.  
"Hey Kathryn."  
"Hey what? C'mon, hurry!" She sped up ever so slightly.  
"I was right."  
"Right about what?"  
"Horace didn't misspeak, he really meant horses."  
I stuck out my tongue before realizing she couldn't see me and saying, "Fine, whatever, just hurry up!"  
We emerged into a large cavern, whose smell of dust, horse, and hay did not match with the rough and moist looking walls of the large cavern. The large pack of horses weren't tethered, as always, but instead had water and food troughs scattered at seemingly random intervals throughout the room. They all appeared to be paints for a moment, and I frowned with confusion, before realizing that it was because they all had snow matted into their coats.  
Sarah let out her whistle series - every horse had a different one to prevent confusions with multiple horses, along with the common one to call them all at once - and there was an instant reaction from the middle of the pack. I whistled my command as well, and there was another whinny in response, which sounded equally as excited as the first. For a moment we couldn't see anything but the Brownian motion of the horses, but soon we were able to see a small wake being left by a pair of shaggy snowy and all things considered disheveled horses, probably the worst looking of the group. As soon as they were free, they began to canter, and even though I knew they wouldn't ever hurt us on purpose, I was a little worried that, in their enthusiasm, that we would be trampled. However, my worries were unfounded, for they skidded to a halt right before us, butting their heads into our shoulders. I laughed as Tiron searched my pockets for an apple.  
"Not today boy!" I said, rubbing his neck and feeling not soft mane but what felt like rubbing your hand over the ice that forms on a windshield. I pulled back to examine him again. Instead of his typical solid black-as-night coat, he looked more like a dalmatian. "What happened to you?"  
_Well, we couldn't very well go running through the snow and expect to remain unseen with completely black and brown coats, now could we?_ Tiron gave me a 'you really are stupid sometimes' look, and I gave his nose a little shove.  
"Oh come off it, I wasn't there."  
_It used to be worse_ Tiron commented as I took a curry comb from a young man who I didn't recognise - must've been someone Old Bob brought with him. Sarah took one as well, and side by side we began to rub the snow out of our steeds' coats. I could almost feel Tiron shaking with happiness as the mats of ice were worked from his coat. It took a terribly long time to get the ice out, but once we did, they looked notably better. We made sure to pick their hooves as well, where large stones of ice had collected and must have been painful. I looked them over again, before something occurred to me.  
"Where did your saddles go?" I asked, and if a horse could look guilty, this horse did.  
_We might kind of, on purpose, just maybe rolled until the girths broke._  
"Of course you did." I said, scratching him between the ears. "No worries, they've got new ones here."  
Both horse's ears pricked up. _Do we get to help pick them out?_ Tiron asked, and I wondered if Correr was asking the same of Sarah, and I just couldn't hear.  
Eventually, Will came to see Tug, but insisted that we go to bed. "You're going to have some long days ahead of you if things turn out at all like I think they will, and won't get the comfort of a real bed for a while." Though I was thinking to myself that hammocks were most certainly not real beds, I didn't argue, and Sarah and I departed the cavern, heading towards our room. We chatted idly for a while, then tucked ourselves into our bed hammocks and put out the candle. However I found that I couldn't sleep. My mind was in overdrive after all of the events of the day, spinning over and over through my head. Horace's appearance, Tiron's familiar greeting. My mind began to spin through everything, from day one of our journey through this world. To my surprise, though I had not planned to, I said out loud, "What if they're right?"  
"Hm?" Sarah said, rolling over in the darkness.  
"What if did lose our minds? I mean, what if what we remember as being home was really some insane dream that replaced our real memories, and we have been living in this world all our lives?"  
For a long moment there was complete silence, and I was beginning to wonder whether Sarah had fallen asleep, indeed if she had ever even been awake, when she finally said, "Wouldn't it be strange that we share the same memories, then?"  
I nodded, then realized she couldn't see me. "I mean, I guess, but what if it's just our minds tricking us into thinking we-"  
"Hey." She interrupted me. "We're never going to know, okay, so let's not freak ourselves out. Alright?"  
I let that sink in for a moment, before sighing and rolling onto my back and saying, "Yeah, I guess you're right." We both fell into silence, and after that, sleep was no longer out of my grasp.

* * *

"It can't be done. There simply aren't enough of us."  
All the rangers, along with Horace and Old Bob were clumped in a loose circle about one of the tables, with the two non rangers, Will, Halt, and Crowley standing closest, staring down at a map of Araluen and a large chunk of the surrounding area. The one who had just spoken was Crowley, who was staring at the small model armies that were showing the position of the enemy and the small paper beside the map the held all the information we had about them.  
"What do you mean?" Will said, looking up, surprised.  
"I mean that it's impossible. Fifty rangers can't take on several thousand armed men and expect to win." His eyes scanned the crowd around him, and when his eyes alit upon Sarah and I, I saw his face darken with a scowl. I leaned over as he looked back towards the map, and whispered to Sarah, "I get the feeling Crowley doesn't like us very much."  
"Probably cuz we're girls." she scowled back at his now bent head, and I had to nudge her to remind her not to let him see as he looked back up.  
"But can't we get help from the warriors of Araluen?" Someone called from the back, but Halt dismissed them with the wave of a hand.  
"Thomas drove out the Ranger Corps, what makes you think he'd leave any Araluen knights around? No, he will have driven many of them out as well, or killed them."  
"Driven them out to where?" Will asked. "Where would they go?"  
"Who knows?" Halt replied. "Probably to the mainland like us, but past that I cannot guess."  
Crowley shook his head. "And so the end of an age comes. Araluen is finished." It was as if he had dropped a boulder on us. The room seemed to grow darker, and rangers visibly drooped all about. The younger rangers looked stunned, as if it had never occurred to them that the Rangers could be defeated. This simply would not do. However, Sarah beat me to the punch.  
"Okay, wait." As she stepped forwards, everyone looked to her with a desperate hope, and I saw her almost visibly recoil. She didn't want to raise their hopes only to have them crash back to earth, she just wanted to pull them out of the hole they'd all fallen into. However, she composed herself, and, thinking on her feet, said, "Where I come from, there's a phrase we use - where there's a will, there's a way. Well, obviously we've got a Will, so there must be a way."  
"But there's not!" Crowley was the first to object, and I saw the hope begin to dim again. "Do not try to say that the impossible is possible."  
Slowly, an idea was forming in my head. "No, she's right." People turned to look at me now, and I noticed with some delight that even Halt had acknowledged my presence at those words. "I've got a little bit of an idea, but you'll have to hear me out."  
"Well come on, spit it out." Horace said, looking the most hopeful of all of us.  
I took a deep breath, composed my thoughts, then began, trying to keep myself from stuttering in the middle. "Well, our problem is that we're outnumbered, right? So, we find an army somewhere- waitI'mnotfinished!" Murmurs of annoyance had begun with those last words, most loud of which were Crowley, and I rushed my words to try and silence them. "It doesn't need to be big - just the warriors we can find on the mainland might be enough, especially if we can hail a few wolfships of Skandians."  
"Even the entirety of the Skandian forces can't defeat this enemy, not when they're in our castles. We built them to keep out people just like them." Crowley pointed out, and I glared at him, with a glare from Sarah to back me up.

"Are you done?" I said tersely, and when he didn't respond, I continued.  
"To deal with the matter of being outnumbered and on the low ground, we get some help from the Genovesians-" here I heard a bit of outcry from Will, Horace, and Halt, but I continued in a louder voice to be heard over theirs - "Hire them to get some poison in their water supply, without damaging what we will have when we get back. They're hired to be clever, they will figure out a way. Many of the enemy's warriors will die or at least be weakened, so we may once again be on an even playing field. Or at least, at less of a disadvantage. And, if we can spy on the Picts, we can have even more of an advantage on them."  
I watched as people silently contemplated my words, and a couple of them were even mouthing things or drawing lines in the air. Slowly, Horace began nodding.  
"There are a couple flaws in the plan, but they can be worked out fairly easily." he said, smiling at me slightly. "That might actually work."  
"The probability of it accomplishing anything is miniscule!" Crowley objected, but Horace gave him a look.  
"And the probability of anything being accomplished while we hide up here are absolutely nothing - I'll take the better bet." Clearly Horace didn't approve of Crowley's apparent dislike for us, and was trying to stand up for us.

After a short conversation with Halt and Will, he began organizing groups. "Alright, Malach, Sorley, and Boday, you're going to be sent on a dispatch to Skandia, you will be trying to get as many warriors as they can spare. Gurshan, Desislav, Poya, Adriel, Kris, Ritayu, Charin, and Carsten, you will search the mainland for any Araluen warriors that may have fled there, as well as any who may be willing to help even if they are not warriors, both on the mainland and in Araluen. Take Ian with you, Malach. Will and Sarah will be going to fetch the Genovesians." By the obvious look of distaste on his face, I could see that this had not been Will's first choice. "Halt will lead one group of the remaining rangers, I will lead the second. My group will be working with small raids on supplies and the like, Halt's will be in intelligence, trying to gather as much information as we can. And you, Crowley..."  
"And what of me?" Crowley insisted, looking slightly upset. He wanted to be in on the action, I realized, and didn't want us to have to fight on our own. Maybe he wasn't all bad, I decided. Everyone has flaws.

Horace on the other hand, was utterly calm. "Well, since you seemed so very hopeless, I put you in charge of the only thing that's left - keeping track of the information. Aren't you good at that sort of thing, being head ranger and all?" Horace was punishing him harshly for his sexism; however I didn't think it would do much good. The only thing that might change Crowley's mind would be if Sarah and I could prove ourselves, in one way or another.  
Crowley, looking slightly huffy, nodded and turned away. "Meeting adjourned."  
As everyone began to leave to their own areas, buzzing with newfound hope and excitement, Horace bellowed above the noise, "Be ready to leave on your assignments by next week!" Sarah and I looked at each other, and though we were both smiling, they were sad smiles.  
"So we're on our own now." Sarah said, and though we were not, in reality, I knew what she meant.  
"Yup." I shrugged. "Guess it was going to happen sooner or later."  
She laughed slightly, but it wasn't genuine I knew. "I suppose."  
I clapped her on the shoulder. "Come, do not be sad."  
Her lips twitched. "What is this, Lord of the Rings? No one talks like that, not even here."  
"Oh but Mr. Frodo, I'm just trying to talk like them big folk do." I replied jokingly. She gave me a light shove, and I stumbled back with laugh, her laughing with me, this one real. It wasn't that funny, in reality, but in times of stress, everything becomes hysterical.  
"Sarah!" We both turned to look at Will, who was beckoning her over. "Come on, we need to talk."  
Sarah made a face at me, something between mock concern and real concern, then started over towards him, fingers drumming idly against her thigh. I turned and headed towards my room, deciding I probably should pack up my things so I'd be ready to leave, and not have to scramble. It took me only a short and uneventful five minutes or so, and therefore had time to go and work on my skills in a large training room off the other hallway, where there were pads for target practice of both knives and arrows, along with other equipment I had not yet derived the point of yet. Somewhat ironically, perhaps, I chose to practice my knife throwing, the thing that had gotten me into this situation with Halt. Or, I suppose, the lack of this activity had. Perhaps, subconsciously I was trying to make up for my mistake, or hoping Halt would walk in and see me doing it, and take it as an apology. In any event, I was all alone in the room, throwing my knives at the targets from maybe fifty feet away, when I heard footsteps behind me. I finished throwing my saxe, and watched as it slammed into the target in the second to center ring, then turned to see who it was. I was surprized to find Horace standing there, fidgeting with his sword's hilt.  
"Katie, have you seen Gillan? I was hoping to spar with him..." after a brief glance around the room, as if to be sure that Gillan wasn't there, he looked to me.  
"Kathryn, actually." I corrected, and he nodded apologetically. "I guess you haven't heard the new, have you?"  
"What news?" he asked as I started across the room to retrieve my blades.  
I yanked my throwing knife free, then, taking a deep breath, said, "Horace, Gillan is dead."  
"What?" I pulled my saxe free, perhaps with slightly more force than was strictly necessary. "How?"  
"We were all ambushed at our meeting at castle Araluen - I'm sure you've been told the story of that. We all scattered in different directions at the end, so Justin and Gillan were separated from all of us when they were caught between to groups of warriors. Finally, Gillan managed to cut a hole in the group of men. He ordered Justin to get out before him, and as he left, Gillan couldn't guard his rear. He was lost in the mass of warriors, and Justin was forced to run." Horace's face radiated astonishment and grief. "I'm sorry."  
"Me too." Horace said, sitting down on a bench next to the wall. "Gillan was a good man."  
"Yes." I agreed, sitting next to him, knives in hand. "And a good swordsman too."  
Horace nodded, staring at the ground. Then, he shook himself from his stupor, looking over at me. "Well, there will be time for grief later. For now, we have to try and set right what's gone wrong in our kingdom." He glanced at my knives. "You any good with those?"  
I glanced at them. "Ummm... I'd like to say I'm at least better than the average person might be if presented with them."  
He stood. "Well then, come on. We'll see just how good you are." Following his lead, I stood, more warily. I put one knife in each hand, saxe in my right, throwing in my left. My fears were confirmed as he drew his sword, which glittered in the bright light cast by the many torches. I stepped back, lowering my knives to show I wasn't ready.  
"Ahm, I don't think I'm quite _that_ good." I informed him, but he didn't seem to care. Without any warning of any kind, he swept his blade in a large overhead arc at my head. With a yelp of surprise and dismay, I threw my blades up in a angled X, catching his sword on my knives. Without hesitation, he swept his sword back and then sideways, forcing me to turn slightly and bring my X to waist level, the three blades meeting with a loud clang. Horace didn't withdraw his blade this time, simply let it sit there, frozen in tableau.  
"What the hell was that?!" I exclaimed, zipping my knives apart so that his blade was left hanging in his hand.  
He laughed. "You're not so bad as you say!" He exclaimed. "I knew you'd deflect my blade, even if you had no warning."  
"And if I hadn't?" I prompted, still a little miffed.  
He shrugged, as if this was of no consequence. "I would have just turned my sword, so it would have been the flat instead of the blade."  
"Uh huh." I said, not so sure. "Well, in any event, a little warning next time would be-" He launched into another series of attacks, each of which forced me to thrust my knives in very different directions. It was faster than I'd ever gone, but I was doing pretty well, raising my confidence. As it turns out, raising it a bit too much. After about a minute, my overconfidence led to a slip, an act of laziness that I earned me a solid smack on the side of my shin. I squeaked with pain and jumped back, bringing my blades up just in case Horace planned to continue. However, he had lowered his blade, and was giving a look that said,_'That's what you get..._' I sat down on the bench again, panting a little, and bent over to examine my shin. Already it was red, and looked like it would swell. "Thanks, I needed that." I said as I stood.  
He shrugged. "Don't be lazy next time."  
"If you hadn't noticed, I'm a little outmatched at this particular moment."  
"No, you're not. If I was actually trying, you'd have bruises all over." He meant it as encouragement, but of course it didn't quite turn out that way. "But, if I was you, I'd try to get inside me reach - a sword is pretty useless if you're too close for it to be used." I nodded, seeing that this would work. So, the next time he took a backhand sweep at me, I ducked instead of blocking, and the lunged forwards, stepping inside his arms reach. It was, of course, the completely unnatural thing to do, despite the logic to it, so it took a little concentration, and by the time I'd gotten there and started working out my next move, Horace had taken a step back, and swung his blade again, stopping his blade only inches from my throat. I stared down it's length, then pushed it away with my saxe.  
"Okay, what'd I do wrong that time?" I asked, realizing now that this could be a valuable learning opportunity, and one that could be critical in the near future. The _very_ near future.  
"You hesitated too long, thought too much." He sheathed his blade, then held out his hand for mine. I passed him my saxe, but he turned down the throwing knife. "See, if I'm right here, you couldn't hit me with a sword." He stepped close. "But, even with our height difference, if I don't act immediately, you can take a step back, and I'll be in your range again. Fast action is your best choice in battle, even if you aren't quite sure if you're action is the right one." He stepped back again, drawing his sword once more. "Come on, try again."  
I earned myself several more smacks from the flat of his blade in the next hour, each time a lesson, either a new one or a repeat of one that I had neglected to think about. Don't try to duck too low, they'll cut at your ankles. Blocking with both knives is not always necessary. A blow from a sword if going to be harder than a blow from my saxe. Some of the lessons seemed obvious to me after the fact, but I just wouldn't think of it until Horace had given me the gift of knowledge; and a nice new bruise. It was clear to me that it would be quite some time before I was able to beat off an attacker as skilled as Horace. Lucky for me, I was also well aware that there weren't many who were as skilled as Horace.  
Sarah arrived at a most opportune moment. Horace had faked an overhand swipe at my skull, and I had just thrown my knives out to block. However, at the last second, he pulled back and swept his sword sideways, the power of his blow knocking both of them from my hands. He was about to swing his sword down, probably expecting to land a painful blow on my shoulder, when another pair of knives appeared and stopped it, only a little ways from my skin. Horace started and drew back for a moment, and I looked over in confusion. There was Sarah, looking back and forth from me to him. "I see you're having a bit of an argument." She commented, and Horace and I smiled.  
"Something like that." Horace told her. "Care to join us? I suppose your chances would be better if you worked together..."  
So, from then on Sarah joined us, her at first having to go through and learn the same lessons as I just had, while at the same time learning with me the advantages and disadvantages of fighting as a team. Multiple times we'd get in each other's way and one of us, usually the one who had caused the problem, would receive a hearty smack from Horace's sword. We learned how swinging to either side could be advantageous, and how one of us going high while the other went low could force our attacker to retreat. All in all, once we figured out how to not trip each other up, we had a much easier time of it, and we would have long sets before Horace would put one of us out of action in one way or another, and at that point the remaining person would quickly be 'dispatched'.  
We had our very first victory several dozen matches in. Sarah and I had circled around to opposite sides, forcing Horace to watch us both carefully. Sarah had lunged forward, and Horace had deflected it with his blade, before swinging back and deflecting my blade with the hilt. We both paused, and Horace took advantage, striking sideways at her, intending to come back and block my inevitable strike. However, Sarah didn't just block - she swept her X'ed blades in a downward arc, so it was pressed towards the ground. Horace, not able to pull back his sword the way he wanted to, was left open for a fraction of a second too long. I lunged forwards, aiming towards his stomach, and just at the last second remembered to turn my blade so it wouldn't impale him. Instead, it slide just past his side, the tip accidentally catching the fabric of his shirt and tearing a long slash in it. Stepping back, Sarah and I let out a unanimous cheer, throwing our fists into the air.  
"Finally!" Sarah said, sheathing her blades. "That took long enough!"  
"Aw, come on!" Horace said, examining his shirt. He gave me a look. "You're fixing this."  
I rolled my eyes, before holding out my hand. "Fine, I'll fix it tonight." He pulled off the woolen shirt, revealing what appeared to be an oldfashioned version of a tank top, much like the one I had made back at the cabin. I took his shirt, examining the tear. It wouldn't be pretty, but I could darn it. Not like it was one of his kingly, regal shirts anyways, it didn't have to look pretty.  
"C'mon." Sarah said, nudging him with her elbow with a smile. "You gotta admit we did good."  
He smiled. "Not bad, at least."  
"Naw, we did great." Sarah decided. "You just don't want to admit it."  
"Fine, you did great!" Horace laughed. "Now go fix my shirt!"  
We walked together to our room, laughing and complaining good naturedly about all the bruises that now populated out bodies. When we arrived, we grabbed our sewing kits, then sat in our hammocks, swung close so we could start from opposite ends of the tear to get finished quicker. When we finished, we found Horace and delivered it to him, before going to diner and eating what we didn't know would be our last dinner in the headquarters. We also didn't know that soon, everything would be completely different - and the end of our journey would soon seem farther away than ever.

* * *

Alyss lunged across the bed to grab her courier's knife as she was jerked from sleep by the horrific crashing sound of wood breaking and splintering. Casting the blankets of her bed aside, she quickly gained her feet as several men poured through her doorway. The actual door was lying crooked on the floor, along with the hinges and a good portion of the door frame. The cool of the winter air made goosebumps run all up her arms and legs, as her sleeping gown was not all that warming on it's own. The harsh torchlight that the men brought with them was painful to her unadjusted eyes, but she could still make out the blue paint and distinctive armament of the Scotti warriors. She scowled at them, disguising any fear she might feel towards these men. She was worried, not for herself, but for the people of the castle and surrounding areas that were in the trail destruction that had no doubt been left by these men. And, of course, for the unborn child that was growing within her. Her guise wavered for a moment as the thought triggered thoughts of Will, but quickly she returned to her previous demeanor. She, just like everyone else in Redmont, had heard the messenger heralding the town, informing them that the Rangers had "rebelled against the leadership of Sir Thomas and, consequently, it had been necessary to dispose of them," along with many reassurances that they had been properly dispatched, and that no one was in any danger from them. It wasn't hard to see through the lies for anyone with more than a meager education, and soon even the most uneducated of people could see through it, as envoys of Scotti warriors had passed through the fife unhindered. Though so far they had left the fife relatively unmolested, Alyss could see that this was now at an end. She held the knife in her hand, trying to make it look like it was an awkward, unfamiliar weapon, to possibly catch the warriors off guard.  
She instead found herself caught off guard, as a finely dressed young man entered the room, the warriors stepping back to let him through with apparent respect. His hair was a short cropped mass of brown curls, upon which sat a heavily adorned circlet style crown. His clothes were clearly very expensive, and of very fine quality, even in the dim light. However, most startling were his eyes, which, when they met hers, caused a shiver to travel all the way along her body - there was a definite uneasy feeling that seemed to follow this man around, and Alyss had learned to trust her instincts when it came to people.  
"Good evening, dear lady." The man said, his voice smooth and soothing, a rich tenor. In any other man, the sound might have had a friendly feel to it, but instead, it only seemed to amplify the feelings Alyss already had exponentially, so she was certain this man was not good news, not at all. Not a saving grace from these warriors, but instead their commander.  
"It was." she said tersely, speaking in sharp quips.  
The man laughed, then signaled something with his hand. Any weapons that had been held by his warriors were quickly sheathed. "Come now, put down your weapon, so we might talk."  
"I don't want to talk, I want you to get out of my room." Alyss said, forcing herself to keep eye contact with the piercing blue eyes of her opponent.  
Again, the man laughed, shaking his head. "General, if you would please leave the room for a moment. I'm sure I'll be fine." He added quickly as the a man made a motion to object. The man backed down, and he and his group left the room, leaving just her and the man. He reached over deftly and shut the door. "Better?"  
"Not quite." Alyss said dryly.  
The man just smiled, shaking his head. "Perhaps. But I am being uncourteous."  
"Yes. You are." Alyss agreed, cutting him off mid thought. The man's smile wavered slightly, but he continued on.  
"My name is Sir Thomas."  
Alyss's breath caught. This was the man who had ordered Will and Halt and Sal and Ka- or rather, Sarah and Kathryn, killed. He had not even spared the apprentices. She fought the urge to stab him right then and there in her chambers, reminding herself that he didn't deserve anything that quick. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She said with what can only be described as negative enthusiasm.  
At this Sir Thomas seemed to get a little bit back on track. "Well, as the latest ruler of this kingdom," Alyss almost choked on rage at these words, but managed to maintain her composure, "I will need to produce an heir at some point, and to do that, I must have a wife. I have been told that this is the residence of the most beautiful and eligible woman in all of Araluen, for of course, only thus will do as queen of this kingdom. It seems they were not lying." He stepped towards her, and she mirrored him with a step back. He rolled his eyes jovially. "Come now, don't be afraid. I have no intention to hurt you."  
"You burst my door down with a battalion of warriors." Alyss pointed out.  
He nodded acknowledgement. "I couldn't walk into the wrong room and get cut down by mistake, now could I?" _It wouldn't be a mistake,_ Alyss thought, though she said nothing. "Come, put down your knife, so we can talk."  
Alyss, seeing that she was outmatched, lowered her blade put did not put it down. Thomas, seeing he would not get anything more from her, sat in a chair by the wall. "Well. Go on." Alyss said, "Let's not beat about the bush. Why are you here?"  
Thomas' eyebrows rose with surprize. "Do you not know?"  
"No, I don't know." Alyss said. "I see the logic in your reasoning, but I do not see how you end up here."  
Thomas shrugged. "Perhaps you do not, but I do. I would be much obliged if you would accompany me back to castle Araluen, dear lady."  
Alyss realized where the disconnect was almost instantly. He didn't even know her name, or he would have used it by now. He did not know of her marital status, or of her pregnancy, or he would almost certainly have discarded her by now, especially if he knew who it was she had married. And now, he wanted her to go to Castle Araluen, so that he could court and then marry her himself.  
Stealthily concealing her simple marriage band, she considered her options. She couldn't say no now, or reveal her married status - if she did, she would likely be left as just another body. But how could she marry another man, with the memory of Will's death still carved deep and fresh in her mind? She knew she could not, for it would simply be too painful. But what other option did she have?  
Apparently her indecisiveness showed on her face, because Sir Thomas said softly, "What if I make this choice easy for you?" Alyss looked up, from where she had been gazing at the floor. "You will be accompanying me, if you agree to it or not. It is simply your choice in what manner you arrive at the castle." There was a long silence, in which Alyss debated back and forth with herself, swaying one way and then the other. Finally, she straightened, putting an obviously forced smile on her face, and set the blade back on her bedside table.  
"You are too kind to extend such an offer, sir." She said, with a short, slightly mocking courtesy. "Of course I will accompany you to the castle; I only beg that you allow me to pack and dress, as this is on such short notice." Her eyes burned with anger as she said the words, daring him to deny her the request.  
"Of course." Thomas replied with equally mechanical formality. Clearly, Alyss's passive aggressiveness had worn down all pretenses of being amused at her behavior. "I will retrieve you in ten minutes - anything you do not have time to retrieve will be provided at the castle." He left the room, and Alyss followed him to the door, where she bent and, all on her own, lifted the large wood door, propping it back in the doorway to provide a semblance of the blockage that it once did. Then hurrying to get through all the things she needed to do, she flung open the window's shutters, which had been shut against the cold. A wicked wind swept through the room, making Alyss cringe against it. In the town, she could see flames. People had tried to fight, and paid the price. People were still fighting, and getting cut down by the skilled warriors. She wondered what was happening at the battle school, but doubted things could be very much better than anywhere else. It appeared as if they had brought an entire army with them to conquer the fife. She supposed that it had to happen if castle Araluen had already been compromised, but she hadn't been expecting it quite so soon.  
Realizing her situation was perhaps more dire than she had imagined, she fetched a travel pack from her closet, and began throwing things into it with frenzied speed. Her courier equipment went first, followed by a few utilitarian garments and items. Then, taking off her wedding ring, she tucked it in a box in which she kept the most sensitive documents, and all the things that were valuable or precious to her or anyone else who had entrusted her with something. It was a beautifully decorated box of burnished bronze, with patterns of silver and gold welded on. Though it looked like a simple jewelry box, it opened with more compartments than seemingly possible, and could hold an astonishing amount. The whole thing locked with a single key, which she fished out of the hidden compartment in her desk where it had been hidden, and hurriedly slipped it onto a simple but elegant metal chain after locking the box, and fastened it about her neck. She then threw on a simple traveling garment, before seating herself on the bedside and staring at her now bare fingers. Although she told herself she was just being foolish, it felt almost as if she were killing the memory of Will as well, by taking off the ring that he had given her almost two years ago now. She felt tears once again bubbling towards the surface, and she quickly shoved them away, not willing to give Thomas the satisfaction of seeing her cry, even if he wouldn't know why they flowed. By the time he had returned, she was completely composed, ready to go. She told herself as she was escorted out by the warriors and Sir Thomas that she would be returning, and it would not be with a new husband either. As she was marched down the halls, she caught a glimpse of the Baron and his wife, sitting disconsolately in a corner with a guard of several warriors. She met the baron's eyes, and tried to give him an encouraging smile - she was fairly sure she failed miserably, if the baron's expression was any indication. As she passed Pauline's rooms, however, she noted that, although the door was open and the room was a horrid mess, there were no signs of blood, or of anything of interest being found. Alyss hoped with all her might that Pauline had escaped to someplace safe, where she might wait out this horrid occurence, and perhaps make a return here, to work as a spy of sorts.  
Her mind was drawn away from these thoughts as the exited the castle and a pair of horses was led up. One was Alyss' own steed, and she wondered how they had known it was hers. Much to Alyss' dismay, almost as soon as they had mounted up, they were surrounded by armed warriors. She had been planning a mounted escape, with her uncommonly agile steed outmatching Thomas'; now this seemed out of the question.  
"Come - it is several days ride from here, so we must be off." Thomas commanded, and as a pack they moved off towards the main road. Alyss twisted almost all the way round in her saddle, trying to imprint the fading view of Redmont in her memory. As it vanished behind a forest, she turned back around, and stared straight ahead at nothing. If she was to be taken forcibly from her home, which was now burning in the distance, she did not feel obligated to be pleasant company. And so, as the rode though the dark, they were plunged into absolute silence.

* * *

**Reviews are like sponsors at the Hunger Games for the charries in the story - the more reviews, the more supplies come down to them in fancy little parachutes. Okay, maybe not, but my World Lit teacher would be proud of me for using a simile.**


	18. Chapter 17: I'm Sorry

**A/N: Salutations, dear readers! Good to see you again, hope you all had a good new years! Wanted to let you know that this is my last pre-written chapter, so updates will be coming slower from now on.**

**Some ****quick notes to people.**

**Tessi: Okay, here comes the apology, but you ain't gonna like it... BWA HA- *gets smacked in the head***

**FarmersDaughter: Oh, one L, right... derp. Okay. Sorry. I won't do it again... but I probably will cuz I'm stupid :p**

**Lauren-kun: Do I really have to use your pen name, or can I just call you by your name name? Anywho, be glad, for this has new, never before seen, I-litterally-just-wrote-this content! So whoohoo! (Sorry your part's so small, it's just, chronologically, all the time I write about my time is just you riding, so... more later, my friend!)**

* * *

"Alright! If you're coming, you'd better be ready _now_!" Halt yelled across the cavern of horses, and there was a murmur of nervous excitement, followed by the sounds of over fifty horses being mounted. After I myself had swung up into Tiron's saddle, I leaned over to Sarah and slapped her on the shoulder. "See you soon, okay?"  
She smiled, but it held the fear that both of us felt in our hearts. "Yeah. See you soon." While companions all around us shared handshakes or variations thereof, Sarah and I shared a quick fist bump, a last little memento from home. Then, the disguised doors of the cavern were opened, and the front of the pack of horses moved out through the narrow opening.  
"Don't do anything stupid!" Sarah called to me as we neared the entrance.  
"I could say the same to you!" I replied, but then she was gone, hurrying to catch up to Will. I myself wasn't worried about losing my group - mine was the largest, so all I had to do was follow the crowd. We exited the warmth of the cavern network into the icy cold air of the outdoor world, and I caught me breath, temporarily dropping my reigns to pull my cloak tighter around me. Yet another reason to envy Old Bob, Fletcher, and the other non-active rangers, who were, for the most part, staying behind to keep track of the riderless horses and our supplies. Then, I retrieved the reigns to steer Tiron towards the right group. Sarah and Will were, for now, riding almost parallel to our group, but within minutes, I could no longer see the dark shapes of their horses in the snow - they had branched off somewhere I hadn't seen. So now, for the first time since I had arrived in the world, I was well and truly isolated from what I'd known before. As we rode, I realized that it was a very real fact that some of the rangers would most likely die in the coming time - Gilan already had. And, being some of the most inexperienced of the group, it was not unlikely at all that Sarah or I, or both of us for that matter, would end up as one of those dead bodies. I wondered what would happen to me if Sarah did die, if this was the last I was to have said to her. Would I forget where I'd come from? Would I forget everything I'd known? I shook the morbid thoughts away. No, I would see Sarah again, and with any luck, by then Horace would be sitting on the throne in Castle Araluen. There would be no need to grieve, no one to mourn. Or at least, that is what I told myself as I bent over Tiron's neck to shield myself from the wind as we rode down the icy mountain slopes.

* * *

I threw a small stone into a nearby puddle as I munched my cold rations. With pursuit so hard on our tails (and by tails, I mean on every side), lighting any kind of fire was out of the question, so dry bread and dried meat it was. The soft murmurs of voices was like a strange kind of music in the darkness, rising and falling over the hiss of the branches rubbing against each other in the cold wind. Back down in the plains, winter had not yet come in full, though it was clearly very close. It had taken us a ridiculously long time to get halfway back the way we'd come over the mainland, almost the same amount of time it had taken us to get all the way there. None of us were very amused, but there was nothing we could do. There were many more Scotti scouts now that there had been before, and we had to give all main roads and towns a wide berth. At this moment, we were sitting deep in the woods to the right of a minor road in the back country or some place or other.

At that moment, it was awfuly hard for me to care where we were. I was shivering and miserable. With Sarah gone, I'd realized just how much I'd relied on her. Although I had talked with many people during our trek (though still not Halt, I noted)I couldn't talk about the same things, or in the same way. They didn't know. How could they? They had no idea about this other world that I had come from, and I couldn't even start to explain it to them. It wasn't that we didn't have anything to talk about, it was just that I couldn't relate to them in the same way as Sarah.  
I glanced up in surprise, hearing footsteps, and smiled slightly when I saw Justin, coming over to sit beside me. I scooted over to allow him a spot to lean against the tree, and he seated himself.  
"So," he began, but did not continue."  
"So." I agreed, blowing on my fingers. Gently, he reached out and took my hands in his, sandwiching them between so that his warm palms burned against my freezing fingers.  
"Thanks." I murmured, feeling a little awkward but not about to withdraw my fingers back into the frigid air.  
"Not at all." He murmured back. He looked up as voices were raised for a moment over with the others, but it wasn't anything important and he turned back. "Why don't you come over and sit with us? It's a bit warmer in spirits, if not in temperature."  
I shrugged. "What am I going to do? I'm no good with words, here or... anywhere, really. I can't relate to anyone here because I'm..." Stuck for an ending to this sentence, I gestured vaguely at myself. "me!"  
"You won't know if you don't try it." He pointed out, nudging me with his elbow.  
"Um, I think I do know." I retaliated.  
"You're talking with me, aren't you?"  
"Well that's different..."  
"How?"  
Now there, my friends, is an absolutely fantastic question. How was it different? I hadn't known him any longer, and I only knew him a little better than the others. He was just like the rest of them, and yet... I could talk with him. I did not find myself retreating inside my shell and watching from afar, as I might have even back in modern day. I kept finding myself speaking freely, as I might with Sarah.  
I sighed. "Look, I don't know, okay? I don't know how it's different, it just is." I ran a hand through my thoroughly matted hair. "And then of course there's Halt."  
"Ah yes." He leaned close, so that he could whisper quite softly and still let me hear. "If it makes you feel better, he's not ignoring you entirely anymore - he's started looking at you again."  
Now, normally, I would have said something along the lines of, 'Well great, he is actually_ looking_ at me, I'm soooo reassured'. But, to my surprise, I felt a measure of the worry that had been festering in my stomach for the last weeks drain away, and I smiled slightly. "You know what, that does make me feel a little better. Thanks."  
"No problem." He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze, what was intended to be a friendly side hug, but turned out to crush my torso somewhat. "Stay warm." He stood up and moved over to the main group, where he began to chat with a group of Rangers who I still hadn't learned the names of. Taking his advice to heart, I pulled my cloak tighter around my shoulders, huddling against the tree. It was going to be a long, _long_ trip home.

By the time we made landfall in Araluen, it must have been mid-March. It took five ships, all staggered in timing as not to raise anyones suspicions, six months, and a whole lot of complaining to get back across the sea, but we made it - and what we found wasn't pretty.  
The town we docked in looked absolutely dreary. The houses, the roads, and the people all looked worn down, frightened of their own shadows. When the several of us that were on each boat would walk through the town, even in disguise, the inhabitants of it would hurry inside, locking their doors and shuttering their windows. It was apparent that strangers weren't welcome - even just for passing through.  
I was on the first boat to leave, and, due to the staggering of our arrivals, we had to hide for almost five months in an encampment in the woods a few miles to the west. When the second boat came in, we had a pretty good settlement going, but by the time the last boat came we had a veritable village assembled. No fires, of course, which made the whole thing just that much more miserable, but since we had so much idle time we managed to at least clear away the snow from the vague circle in which we were encamped, and get together enough tents for everyone to have one in which to sleep.  
When the last boat did eventually sail in, the leaders of our groups got together, and had a meeting off to one side of the encampment, while the rest of us speculated idly about what they might be they returned, they were looking fairly grim, but determined. Horace finally spoke. "Halt will lead his group towards Castle Araluen, gathering any information they can along the way. We need to know more about where and when they are going to strike. My group will head south, raiding any Scotti encampments we find. A thousand small wounds may help to bleed them dry." We all nodded in silence, trying to fathom what this would connotate.  
"And then what? Once we have gathered information?" Came a call off to one side.  
Halt stepped in. "In two month's time we will meet here once again, to share what we have learned and attempt to find a means of attack. With any luck, the other groups will also have made landfall and will be waiting here for us as well, with a few tricks up their sleeves." Nods greeted his words, and murmurs of agreement. He bid us go to sleep, so we could be rested in the morning, and be ready for what we were going to have to do. However, I didn't go to my tent - all traces of weariness had left me when the announcement came. I instead went to huddle against the base a of a tree, gazing up at the stars through it's branches. _They are the same stars as back home,_ I thought. The very same one's I've seen every single day of my life. And yet, here they looked so much brighter, so much more beautiful.  
"I feel like we've done this before." Justin said softly as he sat down beside me. "You seem to really like trees."  
I smiled at him, dragging my eyes from the sky. "Yeah. Tents are overrated."  
He smiled back at me, but it faded quickly. "What're you thinking about?"  
"Oh, you know... stuff." I shrugged.  
"What kind of stuff?"  
"Stuff like stuff." he gave me a look, and I chuckled softly, but it too faded fast. "Oh you know. Things that were, things that are, things that have not yet come to pass. The whole shpeal."  
"And what are you thinking about that?"  
"Dear god, I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition." I muttered, and a look of confusion crossed his face. "Oh, that hasn't happened yet, has it?"  
"Um, I don't think so..."  
"Well it will, trust me." I hung my head. "Well, I mean, I guess I'm just a little scared, is all."  
Justing looked taken aback. "You? Scared?"  
I almost guffawed. Back home, no one would have thought me brave. Hell, I wouldn't have thought myself brave. But here I had done things I wouldn't have thought even vaguely possible back home, and I guess I had been kind of brave. And, I realized with a jolt, I wasn't scared for the reason I might have expected.  
"Yeah. But not really for myself, though I probably should be." I said, pulling my knees to my chest and wap my arms around them.  
"Then for who?" He knew the answer, I could hear it, but still he asked.  
"Well... for everyone here really. Will. Sarah." I paused, then added, "Halt." Justin nodded, silent. After a few minutes, I whispered, "What if they die, Justin?"  
He sighed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, like he did before, but this time he left it there, comforting me. "Come now, you know them better than I do I think. They've been through this kind of thing before - they'll be fine."  
"Not Sarah." I said, crossing my arms over my now twisted stomach. "I don't, I don't know what I'd do if I lost her." I looked at him, forcing tears to stay away. "We've been friends for... nine years! She's the only one who gets it, who understands here..." I sniffled, and quickly looked away, feeling a little embarrassed for spilling my guts all over the place, and for the tears that were forming in my eyes.  
We were silent for a moment more, before he said slowly, "A true friend is something that is very valuable, and should not be treated lightly. However," he continued as I was about to reply, "you have to remember that Sarah is every bit as capable as you are. She is very smart, very strong, and very cunning. If you trust her with your life, can't you trust her with her own?" I didn't know how to respond to this little monologue, so I remained silent, staring with great concentration at a stone on the ground. "Well, can't you?"  
"Well, yeah, I guess." I replied, forcing my voice to remain steady, "but that doesn't mean I'm going to be any less worried about her."  
Justin gave my shoulders a little shake. "Come on, silly. Get to bed, big day tomorrow."  
I tried to force a smile, but it came out just as shaky as my voice. "Thanks, Justin." As I ducked into my tent, I realized that I was just talking about being worried about my friends dying to the boy who just lost his mentor. Quickly, I ducked back outside, but he had already left. Cringing on the inside, I rolled into my blankets, hoping that Justin wasn't too mad at me.

* * *

Apparently, someone was looking down at this situation, and thought, 'You know what? I don't think Kathryn is miserable enough just yet.' Because somehow, everything was aligned just perfectly to take any little comforts might have had. Justin was assigned to Horace's group, while I was assigned to Halt's, separating me from the one person who I had come to trust in the group. And, instead of snowing, like it had been before, the warming air was sending sleet down by the buckets on our heads. The horses were freezing, we were freezing, and the roads became slick with ice, slowing our progress even further.

All the main roads to castle Araluen seemed to be teeming with Scotti patrols. They were large, dangerous, and in an attempt not to blow our cover, we weren't even allowed to take any of them out. Every time we saw one, we'd have to quickly retreat into the woods, winding wildly to lose the patrol. It was time consuming, to say the least. And, we weren't even spying yet; according to Halt, these patrols were too far away from Castle Araluen (presumably their home base) to have reliable information. So, onwards we went, through the sleet, towards the center of the country.

It must have been at least a week before we arrived at an encampment that Halt announced would be our headquarters for the next two months. Instead of just rolling into our cloaks like before, we took the time to put up tents, making a miniature version of our previous camp. Shivering and wet, I wanted nothing more than to crawl into my tent and fall asleep, but was stopped by Halt's call for a meeting. With a groan, I stumbled back out into the precipitation, trying not to wince at every icy clump that fell from the trees.

"Alright, here is our plan." Halt had brought out a map, and was doing his best to sheild it from the sleet while still letting us see. "There appears to be a major base right here-" he jabbed at a spot an inch from the Castle, "and we're here; that's about ten kilometers. We'll all take turns guarding the camp and trying to gain any information we can, for two weeks. Then, we will remain at this camp, but instead try to gain information from here." He gestured to a spot slightly further from our camp. "These are the only major camps that we have found that will be safe to try and enter - the others would be too dangerous."

"And how are we going about getting this information?" Asked a man off to one side, peering over the shoulders of our compatriots.

"Same way we always do - sneak around, listen in without being seen. There's no need for any of us to be posing as someone we're not - it's too dangerous right now." He looked us each in the eye, even me briefly. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes." we all mumbled, just wanting to go to bed.

"Alright. We start tomorrow."

Relieved, I stumbled into my tent, hoping the sleet would have stopped by tomorrow.

We had arrived at the Scotti tent before the sun had even thought about coming up. I was still trying to rub the sleep from my eyes as Halt directed us to various places in the woods, from which we would watch. Soon after, the camp had begun to wake as well. Men, dressed in startlingly little for the temperature, were running all about, yells and shouts breaking the pre-dawn stillness. I'm not quite sure what we were looking for, exactly, but we were looking alright.

It seemed we had been sitting for ages before something of interest happened. A man who was clearly more important than the others we had seen, judging by his apparel, exited a tent nearby us. All of us leaned forward slightly, trying to get a better look at this man. Unfortunately, I leaned forwards straight into a particularly fluffy piece of snow, which erupted in a puff that I proceeded to inhale.

I tried to muffle the sneeze by plugging my nose, but it still came out loud enough to be heard. Every eye shifted to me, most twinkling with anger and horror. Every eye, including that of the Scotti leader, although he actually couldn't see me yet. Plans ran through my head. We were horribly outnumbered, and there was no way that the man would accept that he had imagined things. We needed an explanation, and one that wouldn't give everything away. An idea forming, I motioned the others silently away, making a shooing motion with my hands. Many of them, maybe half, nodded and started running, while the other half looked doubtfully at me. One of those who stayed was Halt. I shooed them once more before turning back to the damage that had been caused. The Scotti man was moving slowly towards our hiding spot, clearly looking for the source of the noise. That was plenty of time, I thought.

I quickly tore off my ranger cloak, laying it down to become a makeshift pack. I pulled off my top shirt, leaving only my thin tank top underneath. Then, pulling out a long roll of bandage from my first aid kit, I began to wrap it tightly over my upper torso. _ No need for them to know I'm a girl,_ I thought grimly. _Slightly less horrible things they can do to a boy._

I firm hand grabbed my shoulder and gave it a shake. I turned to see Halt, his eyes asking, _what the hell are you doing?_ Somehow, even in these circumstances I felt a little flare of joy. This was the first real contact between the two of us since our fight, and I desperately needed his support at this point. Well, not at _this_ point exactly. Actually, at this point, I needed him to get the hell out of here. But later I would need his support. That is, if there was a later. In case there wasn't a later, I met his eyes, and tried to say back, _I'm so, so sorry. But you have to trust me, or you're all going to die._ My guess would be that he just saw me looking at him, but I tried.

I motioned him to leave again, this time giving him a little shove. Turning back to watch our hunters, I tied off my bandage hastily. _Good enough,_ I thought. Then, as I shrugged the my shirt back over my middle, I looked up again. There were three Scotti now, searching the underbrush thoroughly , and they were halfway here. I placed my first aid kit onto my cloak.

Halt's hand on my shoulder again. I turned, annoyed. Halt was the only one left now, and I really needed him gone, if my plan was to work. He looked deep into my eyes, as if trying to read my mind. I didn't look away, but I did pull out my throwing knife before unbuckling my belt, only fumbling slightly on the latter. Seemingly unsatisfied, he began to pull me away. I jerked back, making a big crash in the undergrowth. I heard the cries of the Scotti, and Halt glared at me. I stuffed all but my throwing knife onto my cloak, wrapped it tightly, and shoved it towards Halt. As I watched the men approach, I quickly cut my hair as short as I dare with a knife. It was difficult to get it all with out looking, but fist full by fist full of hair I lobbed it off, if not very neatly. I then shoved my knife into the small pack -which Halt still hadn't taken - along with the as many of the hunks of hair as I could. I saw Halt reaching out to grab me again, but I lunged away, crunching undergrowth as I went. The Scotti were mere feet away now, and I made one more shooing motion. Then, letting out a huge, fake sneeze, I tumbled forward right before the feet of the huge Scotti men.

* * *

Sarah looked over at Will, who had been gradually becoming more and more grim looking as their journey had continued. Despite the improved weather that the non-mountainous area provided, though the last months, her mentor had been begun to slump, looking despondent. Finally, unable to take it any more, she asked, "Will, is something wrong?"

Will, looking surprized, straightened abruptly. "No, no, I'm fine." he said.

"No, you're not." Sarah said nudging Correr closer to Tug. "When you look ready to fall off your horse, you are not fine."

Will gave her a weak smile. "I suppose not." Then, rubbing his eyes, he told her, "I guess I'm just a little bit worried, that's all."

"About what?"

Will shrugged. "Well, he have defeated Genovesian mercenaries multiple times. Don't you think that they would want to dispose of us, for job security?"

Sarah frowned. "But wouldn't we counteract that by offering them a job?"

Will shook his head. "Only if they let us get close enough to talk with."

They rode in silence for a while longer, before Sarah continued, "But that's not it, is it?" When he looked over blankly, she said, "Well, talking about your worries is supposed to make them better, but if anything you look more worried than before!"

Will shook his head, as if trying to clear it, "There is no reason to burden you with my own troubles."

"Aw, c'mon! I won't tell anyone, I promise!" Sarah cajoled, which only made Will roll his eyes with a smile. "Ok, fine. You tell me what's bothering you, and I'll answer any question you ask, completely honestly, to the best of my ability."

This seemed to catch Will's attention. "Any question?"

Though the way he said this made Sarah a tiny bit nervous, she nodded confirmation. "Any question."

Will looked determinedly at Tug's mane for a moment, briefly running his fingers though it. Then, he reluctantly said, "I'm worried because... Alyss is pregnant, and I'm not there to protect her."

Sarah choked on their air she'd been breathing. "Alyss is _what?!_"

Will laughed half-heartedly. "We thought we'd let it be a surprize."

"Well it's certainly a surprize now!" Sarah muttered, running her hand through her hair. "Ok, so you're worried for someone, um, two people, who you care strongly about, but can't protect them. I get that. But, you're forgetting that-"

"-she's more than capable of taking care of herself, I know. Halt told me as much." Will interrupted. "But that doesn't mean I'm not worried.

Sarah shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." In reality, she did more than guess - she couldn't count on her fingers all the people she was worried about right then, in this world and others.

She didn't have long to think on it, however. "My turn." Sarah turning slightly in the saddle to face Will more directly, his tone making her stomach drop.

"Oh, right. Um, okay, shoot." Rolling her eyes at his quizzical look, she corrected her slang, saying, "Go ahead."

"How did you and Kathryn know Tug and Abelard's passwords?"

_Damn,_ Sarah thought, realizing that she had set herself right between a rock and a hard place. She could either toss out another lie, most likely not believable and revealed in the end, or she could tell the truth and have him label it as an insanity relapse. "Erm, if I tell you the truth you won't believe me." she tried, attempting to dodge the bullet that was speeding towards her.

"Try me." Will replied, the words dragging her back into the bullet's path.

Resigning herself, Sarah looked away, trying to find the best way to explain it, without sounding too crazy." Well... in the world I, that is the world I though I was in before I remember waking up 'crazy', there were books telling all about you, and Halt, and Horace, and all of you adventures. And the codewords were featured in the books." She met Will's eyes at the end of her sentence, searching for what his reaction would be.

What she got was a mix of trust and disbelief. "How could you, your, _hallucination_, have revealed our codewords, unless you knew it before hand?"

Sarah, knowing that trying to explain that is was not a hallucination would be pointless, simply smiled and nodded her agreement. "I dunno."

Will gave her that look again. "Does Kathryn remember the same thing? With the books and all?"

Sarah nodded again with a grim smile. "To the letter."

Will looked about to say something, before his head snapped around to face forward. "No more talking; We've been far too distracted. We're in Genovesian territory now, and we must be on our guard."

"Too late." came the heavily accented voice from the trees, and a single, purple cloaked and armed crossbowman stepped from the trees, forcing Will and Sarah to rein suddenly in.

"We want no trouble." Will told him tersely, "We're looking to hire."

"Indeed?" The bowman said, his voice mocking. "I suppose we'll be the judge of that, yes?" With these words, at least a dozen more crossbowmen stepped from the trees, all aiming their weapons at the pair of Rangers. "If would be so kind as to relinquish your weapons."

* * *

Alyss peered at herself in the mirror. It seemed to her that she should most definitely have a few gray hairs by now, after all she'd been though. Despite this, her golden curls remained just a vibrant however. Her face, however, was an entirely different matter. She now had frown lines about her mouth to accompany the laugh lines that that started forming after her 28th birthday. Her lips no longer held the ever present curl of a smile, and instead were almost always pressed into a tight line of worry, anger, or thought. And then of course, there were her eyes, which spoke more keenly of her grief than any words ever could. She had tried to get rid of the look when she had arrived at Castle Araluen, but had failed miserably - the grief of Will's loss was simply too close. And Halt, and Sarah, and Kathryn, and possibly even Lady Pauline...

A knock on the door sent Alyss spinning around, smacking her knee painfully on the table upon which her mirror sat. A messenger boy or perhaps thirteen entered the room, looking terrified.

"Sir Thomas requests your presence in his study, Lady Alyss." he stammered, looking up at the tall woman.

Alyss tried to look calm and reassuring. "Thank you..." she silently asked for his name with her pause.

"Talbot, my lady," he supplied with a bow.

"Thank you, Talbot. Please inform him I will be there shortly." The boy, bowing again, left the room, stranding Alyss once again with her thoughts. She knew that, out of formality, she should change into her fancier couriers dress, but considering that Thomas was an usurper and a murderer, she decided that he did not deserve such an honor. She wrinkled her nose at the fact that her couriers knife, which was usually hidden amongst the folds in the fabric of her dress, had been confiscated from her, as it was "not fit for a lady, nor needed here," according to Thomas. She had a suspicion that it was more out the concern that she might kill herself than that she might kill someone else. And, indeed, it was a somewhat valid concern. Alyss was yet working on a plan to get out of marrying the false ruler, and her only backup would be to find some sort of weapon, and end it before it could start. She had no delusions that she could overpower Thomas, which left only one option.

She would not marry this man. She would rather die than do so.

But for no, she had to play the part, on hope Thomas would be too distracted to hurry their nuptials along. What was she hoping would happen? Anything, really, anything to stop them from wedding, whatever that thing might be.

Before leaving, she went to her closet, removing one of the floor boards to reveal a secret compartment, within which she had stored her box. She took the key from where it hung at her throat, and snapped the box open to reveal it's contents. Pulling out the pair of wedding bands which were nestled inside, she gently ran her fingertip around the edge of each one, cradling them in her palm as if they were small, living creatures instead or metal loops.

"I won't betray you, Will." she whispered, hoping that he could hear her, "Not in a million years." Then, replacing the contents of the box, she locked and stowed it, straightening back to a standing position.

The walk from her room to Thomas's was unfortunately short, and when she came to the closed door, she paused, composing herself for whatever was to come. She glanced down at her slightly bulging belly, willing the being there to pace it's self, just a little. So far, no one had noticed, but it wouldn't be long. Perhaps if she ate an unreasonable amount, she could excuse it off for a while longer.

Perhaps.

Three sharp raps were all the warning she gave as she entered the room. However, it seemed even these were pointless, as the room was completely devoid of annoying nobility._ Only Thomas would summon me to a room he wasn't in._ Alyss thought, scowling with annoyance, but also somewhat relieved at his absence.

It was with great interest that Alyss noticed the array of correspondences laid out on the desk in the center of the room, none of which were penned in Thomas's hand (which she had unfortunately come to know quite well from the multitude of short, sappy love notes that he repeatedly sent her). _What's the news, _dear, she thought, the last word dripping sarcasm, even in her head. She strolled innocently over to his desk, settling herself in his large, heavily padded chair. Perfect - a clear view of the door, and access to the natural lighting provided by the windows. If nothing else, the false prince knew how to lay out a room.

She picked up the topmost letter, eyes scanning over it with the quick judgement of a courier. _An army? _Alyss wondered, _Who is there left to fight?_

The letter below that answered her question. She read it over once, then again, and again, each time with more excitement than the last. _The rangers were not all killed!_ Alyss yelled inside her head, _they're still alive and fighting! _She fought the urge to jump up and shout with joy as she yet again read the letter, telling of the Ranger's movements. A warmth began to bloom in Alyss's chest, overwhelming and replacing the feelings of despair from the last few months, and all else in the whole world.

So much so that Alyss was blind to everything else in her environment. Where an irritated and suspicious cough came from the doorway, Alyss nearly jumped out of her skin, head jerking up to find the source of the sound.

"Now what," Thomas asked, "Are you doing with my letters, dearest?"

* * *

**A/N: Ooooh, cliffhangers everywhere! I am so evil... so, so evil... Anyways! Sorry if grammar is weird, I am doing this late at night and I'm too tired to read it all over again.**

**Please review, I will make you virtual cookies, which you can virtually eat to your hearts content.**


	19. Chapter 18: Hotel California

**A/N: Hey there! Again, all new material, so longer to write, sorry! Oh, more Scotti language, it was apparently close to Galican, so that's what I'm using. It just happens to be close to Spanish, which I am taking in IB. Everything I say I can figure out, I believe I would actually be able to figure out in real life, so... yeah. Also, each little section may seem short and divided up more than before, but that's because I'm trying to to have too much overflow with the three plot lines. So, short bursts of all three, unless you guys don't like it, then I can change it. Soonish it should be down to only two plot lines.**

**Eh, I'm not sure why, but I don't feel like this chapter is quite as... I don't know, in character? as the others. So... yeah. If it seems that way, I can tell too.**

**Sarah: Yeah, I don't really care :)**

**FarmersDaugher: Well, I don't know where to start with all that... so thank you, and I'm glad your friend got engaged!**

**Tessi: Haha, sorry, plot point, a slightly more legit apology in the... far off future. But it's coming! Really, it is.**

* * *

A massive hand grabbed my shoulder, dragging me to my feet, and beyond, forcing me to stand on tiptoe or lose an arm. It took all of my strength of will to not let out a very un-manly squeak as I found myself face to face with the biggest, ugliest brute I'd ever seen. Clearly able to see his face now, I could now tell this man had seen many, many battles; deep scarring all across his face, as if he had been slashed multiple times there. As his reeking breath washed across my face, I had to wonder if this meant he was a bad warrior, or just an experienced one. He was tall, muscular, and had the tiniest bit of fuzz-like hair on the top of his head.

"Quen é vostede?" he demanded, and I tried my best to figure out what this might mean. Sort of like 'Quien es vosotros,' which is 'Who are you' in spanish, though with the worst grammar I'd ever heard. And, it did make sense in context...

"Ahm, me llamo Kathryn." I tried, and he frowned. "Soy Kathryn." I tried again, literally 'I am Kathryn.' His frown deepened, and, fearful, I tried, "My name is Kathryn!" in my own language. I winced slightly as my voice squeaked in a most undignified way. His eyes clearly showed recognition at that, but still did not look happy. They slid from my no doubt bloodless face, and cast into the woods, searchingly. _Hide, Halt, hide! _I thought, willing him to be gone already.

"Is there other with you?" He asked, black eyes boring into mine like fire. I hastily shook my head negatively, and he yanked on my arm, dragging me closer to him.

"You lie boy!" He snarled as I let out a cry of pain, hoping my arm wouldn't leave it's socket.

"No, no! Really, I'm alone! Please!" I begged, remembering a particular episode of a crime show we'd watched in science class, where a young woman's arms had been torn from their sockets on screen. "Please, you're hurting me!" Perhaps not the wisest thing to say to a suspicious battle hardened warrior, but it was the only thing my pain filled and panicked mind could come up with.

And, in any event, the words seemed to elicit no reaction, as my arm remained twisted above it's preferred level. "Why you here?" He snapped, then shook me before I had a chance to get an alibi together. "Tell me!"

"I'm, uh, I'm, um..." I felt like something out a scumbag brain meme._ 'Oh, you need an alibi or you'll die? Why don't we just pull a blank.'_ Which was a really helpful thought to be having right about then, obviously. "I was, um curious." I finally stammered out, and continued to patter on because he didn't look convinced. "I was just out in the woods, and saw this great big camp, with all these people, and I didn't know what it was, and so I thought I'd stay and watch, but then you were coming and I got scared, and so I tried to hide, but I sneezed and you found me and I-"

"Silence!" he snapped, shaking my arm again. I really wished that my brain would hurry up and dull the pain with the adrenaline I could feel coursing uselessly through my veins. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned to the other two Scotti, who I hadn't even noticed on either side of him in my absolute panic.

"Nós o levamos para o capitán?" He asked, and to my horror, it sounded an awful lot like 'Do we carry for the captain?' Clearly, not the literal translation, but I got the idea.

"Creo que si." replied one, and I let out a little whimper as I realized that he had said 'I believe that yes.' My fear was confirmed as the man turned away from me without releasing my arm and said, "Follow me." Unable to do anything to resist, I did so, half jogging to keep up. Out of the woods we went, into the camp, where we wove through a maze of tents and fire rings, where fires were just being lit. Our little posse drew quite a bit of attention, and I tried to become as small as possible; really, not that hard, considering I was being compared to the giant hulking warriors. As we reached what I assumed must be the middle of the camp, I spotted a very official looking tent, and realized this was probably where we were heading. I tried to slow our progress slightly by stumbling, but found that I was just dragged along by my arm regardless.

I had just managed to regain my feet properly when we entered the tent, two armed guards pulling back the large fabric flaps to allow us to pass. Inside, it was like a piece of a palace had been cut and pasted here into the middle of the wilderness. There was large and heavy looking oaken desk, with chairs of equal quality and weight scattered about the room, along with many trunks of books, clothes, and other supplies. Behind the desk sat a large man, whose long dark hair came close to obscuring his features. From underneath his locks, I could just barely make out an angular, sun wrinkled face, though he looked like he had gotten sunburned instead of tanned to achieve these, as his skin was still deathly pale. When he looked up from the paper we was writing on, I could see that his eyes were a bright, acute green, that were clearly filled with cold intelligence. I gulped, not liking my chances of... anything, really, with this man scrutinizing me.

"¿Que é iso?" He asked gruffly, his voice raspy, as if he had been yelling a lot in the past days. 'What's this' was my guess.

"Nós o atopamos no bosque, espionaxe." Well, I got nothing except 'we...', but I could figure what they must have been saying. The man's face gave away nothing as his eyes looked back to me.

"Ben? O que ten que dicir?" Unsure about anything other than the fact it had something to do with talking, I shook my head slightly, hoping it wouldn't be to disrespectful.

"I can't understand." I said quietly, adding, "Sir." afterwards as his eyes became slightly colder.

"Ah, an Araluen then?" His English was notably less accented, and had better grammar, than the man who held me's was, and he clearly felt more at ease with speaking with me than the others. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

I quickly babbled out the alibi I had used earlier, but as I was not cut off this time, I found myself ending with "And yeah." Because I'm just articulate like that.

The man was eyeing me quietly. "And what is your name, boy?"

_My name?_ I thought, _What is my name? I can't use Kathryn, so what is my name, think of a name..._

"My name is Fletcher." I said, blurting out the first name that came into my mind, which happened to be that of the retired ranger.

"Fletcher." The man repeated, apparently not trusting my hesitation. "Understand that we don't like spies in our camps, Fletcher."

"Spies?" I squeaked, "I wasn't spying, I was just... watching."

"But why were you so interested? What would a commoner boy like you care about the endeavors of the Scotti Army?"

"Uhhh..." _Think Kathryn think! _"I um, I wanted..." _Come on brain, _work! "I wanted to work for you."

_That was _not_ what I was hoping you would come up with, brain!_

The captain raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

I couldn't very well go back on my word now. "Uh, yeah, totally. I don't really know what I can do for you, but my family could use the money." Well, it was plausible, even if it wasn't convincing.

The man stood, walking over to me slowly. "Are you a warrior, boy?"

I gulped. "I know a bit, sir." _And there's the flaw in your plan,_ I thought to my self. What if they made me fight against my own cause? Would I be able to defect without being caught or killed?

"And what other skills do you have?" He asked me.

I shrugged. "I can do lots of things, though I doubt many of them would be of value to you." _Like playing guitar and piano, typing at over eighty words a minute, and writing fiction stories._

"Can you read or write?" he asked, and I briefly wondered if he was reading my mind.

"Yes sir, quite well sir." _Several years above my grade level, last time I checked. If you care, which you don't._

"Then it's settled." He looked quite satisfied with himself. "You'll be a runner."

"A... what, sir?" I asked, hoping it wasn't what I thought it was.

"A runner." He gave me a quizzical look. "Running messages back and forth for your superiors, taking dictations for them, and so on."

I fought the urge to groan. Though I now had the ability to run long distance, it didn't mean I liked it. I reminded myself that the alternative was likely having my head lobbed off.

"My thanks, sir." I said, trying to bow with my arm still clamped in the man's hand.

He nodded slightly in acknowledgement, "You will be taken to the king to swear an oath of fealty immediately." He then gave a command to the men on either side of me, who bowed slightly, before turning and exiting the tent with me in tow. Much to my relief, as soon as we left the tent, my arm was released, leaving me to walk on my own. I let out a long sigh as I carefully rolled my shoulder around, making sure it still worked properly. It was sore, and didn't feel good, but it still functioned. As the men ushered me along, urging me into a jog, I briefly considered trying to outrun these men - surely my agility could outmaneuver them. But, even as I considered it, I began to realize that, perhaps this curse was actually a blessing. I would be receiving the direct orders of the highest officials in the Scotti army - I would know exactly what was happening when! If I just found a way to get the information to Halt and Horace, it could be devastating! No, I was not going to be running away from an opportunity such as this one.

Not today.

To my relief, we were not running all the way to where ever the king was; we were only running to the horses. We mounted, me getting the smallest horse out of them, though even he was massive. They were big warhorses, tall, black, excessively muscular, and of a kind I had never ridden before. When I managed to boost myself into the saddle, I looked down at the ground in amazement - could any horse be this tall? Then, the Scotti urged their horses into a trot, and, to my shock, my horse took off after them without direction from me. I had grown so used to the obedient Ranger horses, that this averagely trained horse was utterly shocking to me.

And, among other displeasing things, their trot was much bouncier, and they lacked the ability to long-distance canter for any substantial period of time. So, I was stuck trying desperately to post well enough to render the bouncing slightly less painful, and for the most part failing miserably. But, luckily, in no time we had left the woods and come out into what must have been, judging by the direction we exited the forest from, the Uthal Plain. I found myself fervently thanking Will and Halt for those unbearable hours of geography lessons as I re-oriented myself. There was something comforting about knowing where I was, like there was at least something that I had almost under control. One of those little comforts in life when everything else is collapsing on your head.

I was thoroughly sore by the time we came to another camp, this one notably larger than the other. How on earth they got such a large army all the way to the Uthal Plains in a couple months, I can't say, but I can tell you it must have been hell for the logistics guy. They had everything an army could possibly need; as we passed the outer ring of guards, I could already see a blacksmith, and armory, a horse-shoer-guy, a cook tent, and, of course, the ever moving swarm of warriors. They parted before our massive horses, eyeing us (me) curiously. And, I suppose that's justified - it's not every day you see a tiny little girl-boy riding a massive battle horse.

It was clear where the king's tent was from far away, as it was massive. And I had thought the captain's tent was fancy! Royal purple, with tassels of gold thread visible even from this distance. For the first time, it occurred to me that I should probably be nervous. Then, as I realized that 'the king' was probably Thomas, I decided that yes, I definitely should be nervous. Definitely. If he recognized me, I would be killed. On the spot. Or worse... I shuddered at the thought, willing my imagination to stop, stop that right now. _If you just act like you belong,_ I remembered from somewhere, _People will believe it. _Maybe Halt said that. _Oh Halt, how I wish you were here..._

We stopped before the tent, and swung out of the saddle. Well, they swung out of the saddle - I kinda had to jump. And, if my legs buckled just a little bit, well, that wasn't my most immediate problem. My most immediate problem was the man, the big ugly scarred one, who placed a firm hand on my shoulder and 'guided' me into the tent.

And if I had thought the outside was fancy, I was wrong. This guy... it looked like Smaug had just decided to donate half of the Lonely Mountain to this guy. There was literally gold on everything - the cups, the table had gold inlays, the cushions of the chairs had gold thread patterns. And amidst it all, sat a single man (thank the powers that be it wasn't Thomas), immersed in a lavishly cushioned chair, eating nothing less than the stereotypical pampered rich person food, grapes. And it was the middle of winter.

"Quen é esa persoa?" _Who is this person? _I translated to myself, watching the man as he eyed me disinterestedly.

"O neno quere ser un corredor, señor." Presumably something along the lines of 'he wants to be a runner'. I nodded my agreement heartily, thinking this option better than many others.

The king eyed me a moment longer, before nodding and saying, "Moi ben."

The guard said, "Kneel," and I did so, feeling a tiny bit of dread pulling at my stomach. Though I knew I wasn't going to mean it, I was still going to make and break a promise. "Repeat after me."

What followed was a long litany of foreign, some of which I recognized and some of which flew right over my head. But, as I repeated his words, carefully imitating the pronunciation, I did what may be the most childish thing I have done in my entire adult life. As I knelt there, repeating the words back to the king, I crossed my fingers behind my back. Heck, it might not really mean much in real life, but it made my terrified heart feel a little better. It's the little things...

The words stopped, and I started to my feet, before being thrust harshly back down. I looked up at the guard, and then to the king, who was smiling with contempt. Slowly, he gained his own feet, and meandered over to stand in front of me. It took me a moment to realize he was offering me a hand, upon which sat a very large and glittering ring. The hand faced downward, and he clearly wasn't offering to help me up, so... I fought the urge to roll my eyes as I realized what he was asking. Trying my best not to grimace, I kissed the ring, not thinking at all about all of the other warriors who must have done so.

"Bo Agora saír." The king said, and the guard took his restraining hand off my shoulder. Eager to leave, I shot to my feet, and headed for the door to the tent, after a 'respectful' bow of course. I had just stepped outside of the tent when I felt my head go fuzzy, and saw my vision starting to fade around the edges. _Dammit not now! _I yelled at myself, wiling myself to remain standing. However, it seemed I had stood up just too fast, and my knees buckled, my vision going completely black. However, I wasn't passing out, and so I had the presence of mind to grab at the nearest guard, using their shoulder to keep myself from collapsing completely. By the time I was shaken off by the man, I had regained my vision and my feet, and could catch myself from falling.

"Sae fóra!" The man snapped, and I mumbled out a hasty apology. I stumbled to my large horse, assuming we were going to ride back now that all that was over. I could only hope that, in my moment of weakness, I had not leaned heavily enough on the man for him to be able to tell I was a woman.

"Wait runner!" The sharp call came from inside the tent, and I froze, unsure what the matter was, and weighing my chances of escape if the problem was not good news for me, hoping desperately this was not anything to do with what had just happened. The scarred guard, who hadn't exited the tent, and was the source of the voice, came out of the tent and grabbed me, dragging me inside. The king was standing still, but he had in his manicured hands a folded sheet of paper.

"Eu quero que entregar iso para o capitán Milne." The king said, holding the paper out to me by a corner. I hesitantly stepped forward, looking to the guard for a translation.

"He want you to take that to Captain Milne." The guard told me, gesturing to the paper. Still unsure, I reached out to take the paper, careful not to crumple it in any way.

"I - I don't know where he is." I said softly, looking uncertainly between the guard and the King.

The guard let out an exasperated breath. "Fine. You accompany another runner until you know where people are." He called out a name, quite loudly, and a few moments later, a young man perhaps a few years older than me stepped into the tent. "Evin, este é o seu novo aprendiz. B-lle onde está todo."

"Sir." he replied crisply, bowing slightly, before beckoning to me with a smile. He looked like a kind person, a sight for sore eyes at this moment.

As I stepped back out of the tent, my only thoughts were these; how strange it was that one could wake up an exiled ranger of Araluen, and go to sleep as a runner for the Scotti army.

* * *

Sarah was not amused. She was not amused at all. After she had gotten past the heart stopping terror of being tied to a large post at crossbow point, she had been able to focus on the fact that she was _tied to a post, in an almost pitch black room. _ She was tired, tired of standing, and the ropes wouldn't let her sit down. Not to mention that she really had to go to the bathroom.

"Will!" she moaned, tossing her head tiredly to try and get a strand of hair out of her face, "What do we do?"

"We wait." He muttered from the other side of the post, and she felt his hand lightly touch hers, comfortingly. "Stay strong, okay?"

Sarah made a non-committal noise, but stood a little straighter. She was damned if she wasn't going to hold out as long as she humanly could.

But, as time when on, it seemed like as long as she humanly could might be a bit shorter than she expected. She found herself, on multiple occasions, sagging painfully against the ropes that bound her, undoubtedly pressing into Will on the other side, though he said nothing. The large diameter of the pole made it slightly more comfortable to lean against, but it also prevented Will and her from grabbing the knife from inside her boot.

That is, if Will had allowed them to try and escape in the first place. He was adamant that they should at least attempt to explain their intent to the Genovesians, even if persuading them seemed unlikely. "We need them to rescue Araluen." He had said, making Sarah groan. Her first priority had been escape - she had, after all, spent the last couple weeks on escape exercises with Kathryn. But, instead, Sarah had followed Will's orders, if somewhat reluctantly.

She jerked herself awake once more as someone stalked into the room, slamming the door. It took a bit of twisting on her neck's part, but Sarah managed to find a position where she could see the figure who was entering. There stood a man, looking every bit the Genovesian she had imagined in her head. Short cropped black hair, with a Hitler-stache and thick eyebrows. He was dressed in similar attire to a ranger, except everything was purple, and the weapons were slightly different. He also wore a small badge on his shoulder, and this, coupled with the air of confidence around him, told Sarah that he was most likely highly ranked.

"So," he said in a thick accent. "Two rangers come waltzing into our borders, and expect to take us completely by surprise, is that it?"

"Not at all, sir." Will said, the last word sounding ever so slightly forced.

"Then what?" he asked, "Why have you come, Araluen?"

Will was silent for a moment, before saying, "We come to offer employment."

The man's eyebrow rose. "Employment?"

"Yes." Will confirmed, with a quick nod.

"And what," the man simpered, clearly enjoying himself, "Would a _King's Ranger_ possibly need from a Genovesian mercenary?" Sarah wished she could smack the haughty smile off the man's face.

"You've heard of what's happened in Araluen - you know the answer to that question." Sarah silently cheered, glad Will wasn't just going to take the abuse.

"Indeed I do." the man agreed, stepping closer. "And I want to know why I should care."

"Why do you care about any of the jobs you take?" Will countered, and the man nodded acknowledgement of his point.

"Indeed. But what if I was to tell you that there was a very pretty price upon your heads?" He looked towards Sarah, who fought the urge to recoil from his gaze.

"We can match it." Will said quickly, "Match it and then some."

The man looked thoughtful. "And then some..." he repeated, running his fingers across his mustache. "And what might that con notate?"

Will abruptly looked wary. "As far as morality allows, anything." His words were placed carefully, as he must have been well aware that he was treading a fine line.

"Ah, morality." The man said, starting to walk slowly around the post. "Always getting in the way of things. Or at least, for you." The Genovesian amended, eyes watching him as he circled, "As assassins, we have little use for such things. We get the job done, one way or the other." He passed Will on his second time around, and came to a stop in front of Sarah. "And sometimes," he continued, eyes pinning her in place, "this requires a little, ah, deviation from the lines." He stepped extremely close to Sarah, so close that, in her claustrophobia, she struggled to remain calm, and he said, softly but not at all kindly, "So I will ask you again - why would the likes of _you_ ask for help from the likes of _us_?"

"Becuase-" Will began, but the Genovesian stopped him with an upraised hand.

"I want to hear her answer." The man said, eyes boring into Sarah's. She gulped, forcing her breaths to come even and slow.

"Because we haven't got any other choice." She finally admitted, trying to squirm away from him. "We can't do it on our own, and we need any help that we can get. "

After a moment of silence, the Genovesian let out a low laugh, stepping back, much to Sarah's relief.

"See, Ranger?" He said, addressing Will once again. "She admits it, why can not you? You are here, which means you have already passed the bounds of morality." From some fold in his cloak, he pulled out a small blade, shining in the dim light. Though he did not make any move to use it, his point was made clear. "Now, what are you prepared to do for our help?"

There was a long silence, where even from inside the large stone building, the sounds of rain on the roof could be heard. Sarah focused on her breathing, willing herself not to imagine all the awful things that man could do, would do, had already done with that knife...

"What would you ask?" Will finally said, his words having a resigned quality to them. Sarah was unsure whether she was relieved or disappointed with this answer; on the one hand, she really enjoyed both life and the freedom of Araluen, the former slightly more dear than the latter. But, on the other hand, after that little speech, she dreaded what his request might be.

The wicked smile that flicked across the assassin's face did not allay her fears. "Just this, Ranger, and listen well, for it shall be my final offer and I shall say it only once." He re sheathed his blade as he began his list. "We will have the equivalent of the price on your heads, along with an extra fee for every day we are employed. We shall be allowed to use whatever techniques we choose to achieve the goals you set us. And," here he looked slyly at Will, "We will have your assistance in an endeavor of our own choosing, no matter what it might be."

Sarah could feel Will catch his breath. "And if we say no?"

"Well, if you say no..." he said, almost laughingly, "Then Araluen is lost. And so are you." The tone of his voice, the cold look in his eyes, left no doubt in Sarah's mind that the man would follow through on his implied threat.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Will nodded. "It's a deal."

With a movement quick as lightning, the man sprang forward, blade glinting. Both Rangers cried out, trying to recoil and, to their shock, managing to do so as the ropes fell away. Sarah, graceful as ever, stumbled at the lack of compensation from the ropes, and fell heavily to the ground, just barely catching herself with hands that burned with pins and needles, circulation suddenly returning.

"Well then." The genovesian replied. "Let us talk in someplace more comfortable."

* * *

Alyss quickly regained her composure, her quick mind eager to return to solving problems diplomatically, and cleverly. "Oh, Lord Thomas. How glad I am to see you." She plastered a gracious smile across her face. "I came here, as you requested, but finding you absent, decided to take a seat to rest my feet. And, what do I see, but a multitude of letters, all written to you, spread all across this desk." She held up the letter she had been reading, as if it were no more special than the rest. "And, though it is clear you are very organized, and were going to reply to all these correspondences in a timely manner, it simply isn't you area of expertise!" She saw his face darken slightly at what he apparently took as criticism, and hurried on, "You are wasted here, writing letters to every being in the kingdom - you are meant to be doing more Kingly things than this! And, being a courier as I am, or, I was, rather, it does happen to be my area of expertise." she set the letter down, mind whirling. There were so many opportunities here, if only she could pull off this one tiny little trick.

"You are asking to be my chamberlain." Thomas stated, his blue eyes speaking of incredulity. "But that is a man's work."

Alyss, seeing that Thomas was clearly not feeling to amenable to the idea, decided to try different tactics, no matter how much they disgusted her. "Oh, but dearest," she said, using the term for the first time - indeed, being _friendly_ for the first time, "I do get so very bored just lollygagging about the castle. It would please me very much to not only have something to do, but to be of service to you." She stepped around the desk as she spoke, and ended up with one delicate hand upon his forearm. They were sneaky tactics that made her want to be sick, but now she had a reason to be sneaky, to border just on the edge of what would be allowable; she had Will again.

Thomas looked at her for a moment, before giving in. "Anything for you, my dear." he said, taking her hand gently in his. She smiled broadly at him.

"Thank you, Thomas." She said, trying out his first name. It tasted like venom on her tongue.

He brought her hand to his lips, gently brushing them against her skin. She giggled in the way she had seen the other castle ladies do when their suitors did such things, though the noise felt foreign to her. She had never acted so ditsy in her entire life. "No, thank you, Alyss." For a moment, they just stared into each other's eyes, Alyss trying to mask her disgust with a look of adoration. In reality, her stomach was turning at this man's lips having touched her skin. She would have to scrub it later.

"But this is not why you summoned me here, is it?" she said, breaking the moment, much to her relief.

Thomas did not seem to share the sentiment. "Ah, no. No it isn't." He stepped past her, releasing her hand and stepping behind his desk. "I received a missive from Redmont the other day, and thought you might like to read it - a part of it is addressed to you." He held out a paper which he had fetched from the bottom of the piles, and she daintily took it. As soon as her eyes caught sight of the scrolling black script, she knew who had written the missive, and knew it was not as legitimate as Thomas seemed to believe. It read:

_To His Majesty Sir Thomas,_

_ It has been brought to our attention that an ambassador has not yet been formally sent to greet you as our new king. We regret the error, and seek to rectify it as quickly as possible. An ambassador shall be sent in the next month, and they shall formally greet you and attempt to establish relations. _

_ To her lady Alyss - we hope you are well, and rejoice for your good fortunes. We hope you will send a letter with our ambassador, as we shall. _

_ Yours faithfully,_

_ -Arald, Baron of Redmont Fife._

__It was impossible for Alyss not recognize both the handwriting and the writing style of her dear mentor, Lady Pauline. So she had escaped in time! Alyss smiled, for real this time, her hands holding the paper firmly.

"Dear, might I be allowed to keep this?" She asked, "I should very much like to keep it."

Thomas fixed her with a quizzical look. "If you wish it, dearest."

After she had politely bid farewell, claiming exhaustion (though from what she did not say), she stepped into the hallway and, after carefully looking around, spun around, flinging her arms wide and reveling in the sunlight that streamed through the open windows of the hallway.

_Pauline is coming and Will is alive! _She screamed in her thoughts, the words echoing in her head. _Pauline is coming and Will is alive!_


	20. Chapter 19: Life During Wartime

**A/N: Sup. So, school's back and my clubs/schoolwork/enrichments have officially exploded into a massive pool of chaos. I am beta-ing a story, I strained my wrist trying (and failing) to snowboard, so typing is a slow and tedious task, etc. etc. etc. And, I'm a derp and am the master of procrastination, therefore less time for this. So, I apologize, but I'm doing my best. Really.**

**Magical Bananas: Well, you'll have to get a ways yet to read this, but thanks for reviewing, hope you read up till here!**

**Farmer's Daughter: Yes, and yes. Well done. Thomas isn't stupid, persay, just gullible when it comes to pretty ladies, and Alyss is a boss that way. And yes, Kathryn thought so too. (And I am sorry for the posting gap, it's just taking me a long time)**

**Tessi: The funny part is, both the options you presented are right, and are wrong. Ponder that one for a while!**

* * *

"Dammit Evin slow _down!"_ I yelled, my breath coming in ragged gasps. "You know I'm not as fast as you!"

"Come on little boy, keep up!" He called back with a laugh, speeding up to make me mad. A couple of warriors off to the side called jeers at me, and I cursed right back at them, making them laugh. As I rounded the corner, however, I was quite relieved to see Evin standing there, waiting for me, apparently not out of breath at all.

It was quite a strange dynamic that we had going here, me and everyone else. I wasn't yet accepted as a soldier, not by everyone at least, but they no longer treated me as a complete outsider, and some of them made a conscious effort to include me. One of these people was Evin. He was, as I expected, only a few years older than me, though everyone thought me to be much younger than I was, due to my feminine facial features. 'Gotta grow into his manliness' said no few men, to which I raised my eyebrows but said nothing. But I digress. Evin was very kind to me, starting off by being kind and gentle, and slowly evolving into the playful teasing which everyone indulged in here. He introduced me to the other runners, and as I started running messages of every kind, I began to get to know the warriors of the camp as well. Even if I didn't know their name, they knew mine, and I could talk with them if they knew English. And, after a couple weeks of listening and lessons from Evin, I was starting to get the Scotti language as well. This turned out to be a lot more important than I had thought, as every message I (I meaning Evin, with me hanging in the background) was given was dictated in Scotti. I could write it down phonetically, but there were occasional errors, which Evin delighted in pointing out. So, as a result, I was now able to stammer out some basic phrases in Scotti, Pictish, whatever.

I staggered to a halt in front of Evin, bending double and resting my hands on my knees, sides heaving. "You... are a bloody... bastard." I said between gasps, looking up at him. Another side effect of being in a camp full of twenty to thirty year old warriors - I was starting to swear like a sailor. My friend Adam was nothing compared to them.

Evin only laughed, his bright eyes glittering. "You're doing great for a ten year old!" He said, "But you're going to have to be better than this if you plan on helping on the battle field!" His mid-length brown hair flopped over his forehead, and I groaned as I noted he had not even broken a sweat.

"But I'm tiiiired..." I moaned, standing up straight again. "Can I get a drink of-"

"Nope!" He took off again, and after taking a moment to cuss him out under my breath I followed.

It was a good ten minutes of running before we actually arrived at the tent we were heading for. When we arrived, Evin smiled encouragingly at me, and passed me the folded sheet of paper. One thing he insisted upon was that I read the messages out. Heaven knows why, but this wasn't too tough. As soon as you learn the rules of the pronunciation, it's a piece of cake. So, after wiping a bit of sweat from my brow, I nodded at him and stepped inside.

The lightly armored man inside turned around, asking me a question that I didn't recognize. I held up the paper, and his eyes lit up with recognition. I cleared my throat, caught my breath briefly, and began.

I won't write the whole thing out, because it was fairly long, but I'll give you the general idea. It basically said, "Supplies, extra warriors, and some more armor is coming soon, but be careful, there have been frequent raids upon our supply trains." Unfortunately, as of yet, I could take no credit for these raids. I had yet to find a way to get information to the rangers, though I was looking. There simply wasn't any down time for me, and though I didn't think Evin would rat me out for being away, if he found out why I'd been away, he definitely would.

The man took the paper when I'd finished, and read it again to himself. Then, he nodded curtly, and said a string of words I had come to know as a dismissal. I bowed slightly, realizing I had failed to do so before, and backed out of the tent.

"Not bad." Evin said, clapping me on the shoulder and guiding me back towards our tents (thankfully at a walk). "Only a couple things mispronounced."

"Nothing important I hope." I said, reaching up to tuck my hair behind my ear, before remembering that there wasn't any hair there and instead turning the motion into running my fingers through what hair I did have. It served basically the same purpose, I supposed.

"Not really, just a couple little words." Then, switching to Scotti (much to my annoyance), he said, "How about that drink?"

"Please." I replied in kind, slumping slightly in relief.

"You'll have to run for it though." he warned, and I glared at him. He only laughed, and, after rolling my eyes dramatically, I broke into a jog. So did Evin, his longer strides quickly outdistancing me. I picked up my pace to keep up, but he did too. Seeing where this was going, I sighed, but picked up my pace again, and again, and again, until I was full out sprinting, racing against Evin though I knew it was futile. I had never beaten Evin yet, and doubted I ever would.

This time, however, Evin had even more of an advantage. As we came within three rows of tents of the mess hall, I felt giant arms stop my progress, taking my forward momentum and turning it into upward momentum. I let out a squeak, and started thrashing slightly, but stopped as soon as I heard the deep, bassy laughter that came from the man who held me.

"Bry, put me down!" I yelled, beating at his muscular forearm.

Bry laughed at my attempts at freedom before saying in the slow manner he had, "Little Fletcher, surely you know your tiny hands cannot hurt me!"

"Yeah, but I'm going to keep trying until you put me down!" I retorted, and we both laughed. Variations on this interaction was often the opening to our conversations.

Evin had come back by now, perhaps having noted my absence. "Bry, must you always interrupt our races? I can't say I beat him fair and square if you keep detaining him!"

Bry hesitated over the word 'detaining', but quickly decided it wasn't important and moved on. "You cannot have him all for your self, Evin. He is my friend too."

"Well, can you put this friend down? You're crushing my rib cage." Bry lowered me to the ground, and I struggled to regain my balance, brushing off my shirt. It was quite lucky and unlucky for me that, due to his impossibly muscular arms, and perhaps to his somewhat low IQ, Bry could not actually feel what he was holding in his arms. Lucky, in the sense that my identity as a boy was preserved, but unlucky in the sense that my chest was being crushed in ways that were fairly painful. Overall, however, I figured the benefits outweighed the problems.

"I can too have him all to myself - you can't keep up with me!" Evin said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

Bry bent down from his massive height to look Evin in the eye, "But if your legs are broken, you cannot run, little mouse."

Briefly they stared each other down, before cracking smiles and clapping each other on the shoulder, Bry's blow making Evin stagger. Despite his limited intelligence, Bry was a very friendly, affectionate man, who didn't understand that even his innocent gestures like that could damage a normal human being. Even so, I would hate to see him on the battle field.

Which brought to the fore all sorts of problematic thoughts I'd been having since my arrival here. The plan we had made back at headquarters was for Sarah and Will to bring Genovesians to poison the Scotti, and overall, my loyalty was, of course, still to Araluen. But... Evin, and Bry, and many others, had been so kind to me. How could I just leave them to die, when I could save them? They really weren't that different from me and Sarah and Will - in fact, many of the warriors had told me that they didn't want to be here either, that they didn't care one way or the other about ruling Araluen. They just wanted to go home, and back to their families. How could it be fair to just leave these innocent people to be killed?

I quickly shoved these thoughts away, forcing myself to think in here and now terms. My goal should be to send these people packing before there was any need for them all to die. Perhaps help cut off their supplies, so they were forced to retreat. Then no one would have to die, would they? Or perhaps...

"Fletch? You alright?" Evin was standing in front of me, waving a hand in front of my eyes. I blinked and shook my head.

"Um, yeah. Yeah I'm fine." I said, looking back and forth between the two men, hoping my grim thoughts didn't show. "I just need some water, that's all."

"See Bry, I told you that you were causing problems..."

We all bickered on the way to the mess tent, though I was occasionally excluded from their conversations when they switched to rapid fire foreign. But they would always come back to English, much to my relief. In this respect, these two in particular were very kind to me. Others would use English and Scotti interchangeably, whether I was expected to understand what they said or not, but not Evin and Bry. They were constantly very kind to me, which really, was more than I could expect in an enemy encampment.

"We'll have three glasses of ale," Evin called to the cook, who of course was one of his good friends. Honestly, I think there wasn't anyone in the entire Scotti army who wasn't Evin's good friend.

"Just water for me," I corrected, and the cook nodded, shooting Evin a look. He's always trying to get me to drink alcohol, and I'm always saying no.

"If you're ever going to fit in here, you're going to have to drink like the rest of us." Evin chided, and Bry nodded solemnly.

"He is right, little Fletcher." Bry agreed. "You shall not be a man until you drink like one."

"Well I'm not a man!" I retorted, hoping the truth of that statement didn't echo too loudly in my words. Apparently not, because both men simply smiled and shook their heads.

"You may have to become one soon, Fletch." Evin said, oddly grave compared to the mirth of moments before.

"Indeed - war is no place for boys." Bry added, taking his mug as I accepted my own. Despite being a little on the slow side, he would occasionally come out with a spark of genius.

_Well I'm not a boy either,_ I thought, even though outwardly I nodded and took a big gulp of water.

"Oy, look who it is!" Came a loud voice from the doorway. We all spun around, to find yet another massive man standing in the doorway. Evin and I shrunk back behind Bry inconspicuously, hoping one giant would protect us from the other.

"Veli." Bry replied. "I've been looking for you." The two men paced ominously forward.

"And I've been looking for you." Veli retorted, looking the 6'7" Bry right in the eye. Then, without warning, his arms shot out to wrap Bry in what I assumed was some sort of wrestling hold. It took a moment to realize that, no, they weren't wrestling, they were... hugging. I still was not at all used to the dynamic around there.

"Brother, it is good to see you!" Bry exclaimed, stepping away from Veli. "Evin, Fletcher, this is my older brother, Veli!"

"How do you do?" Evin said confidently, clearly trying to smooth over the whole 'retreating in terror' thing. Veli took Evin's outstretched hand in a firm grip, making his smile falter slightly.

"Pleased to meet you." Came Veli's deep bass voice, before he released Evin and turned to me. "And who is this?" Clearly his intelligence or at least his memory, mirrored his brother's. Bry too had forgotten my 'name' moment's after I had been introduced.

"This is Fletcher. Be careful," Bry hurried, "He's fragile."

_Dear lord, thank you Bry! _I thought as Veli took my hand in a delicate grip, as if he was shaking hands with a baby. And, perhaps, in comparison, he was.

"You aren't a warrior!" Veli said, though the merriment in his words suggested they were not derogatory. "What is such a lad as you doing out here?"

"I'm a runner!" I said, trying to imitate the proud manner with which a younger boy might say the words. I guess I succeeded, because Veli simply chuckled and reached out to rumple my hair (I fought the urge to slap his hand away, however - I'm not the type to take kindly to such treatment), before calling to the cook for some ale.

"See? I told you all men drink." Evin said to me, and I gave him a shove, half expecting a cuff over the ear in return. It didn't come, as Evin instead took a large swig of his ale. "You just don't want to admit it." He retorted.

"Or maybe I find ale gross!" I said back, and Evin pasted a mock horrified look onto his face.

"Did you hear what he said? Not like ale?" He peered forward at me, as if I had just broken into a cold sweat, "Are you sure you're all right?"

I shoved him away again, this time earning a shove back. Laughing, I sat heavily in a chair, reveling in the ability to do so.

* * *

Sleep now was even more scarce than when I was in school. I was running messages much of the day, and then before I slept I had to do all sorts of, erm, precautions. If I wanted to change my clothes, or go to the bathroom, or anything like that, I had to retreat far into the long grass of the plain, and hide from all the men, for obvious reasons. I shared a tent with several other runners of lower rank, though I was told that if I rose in rank, like Evin had, I would eventually earn my own tent. Considering my circumstances, however, I doubted this would happen any time soon.

So when I retreated to my tent and found it completely empty and relatively silent, I was all too eager to take the chance to actually get some rest, and some privacy. My mat was in the furthest back corner of the tent, and so if it rained or snowed or what have you, it was the worst spot to have, but I didn't really mind. It gave me some small measure of separateness, and since no one wanted it, it was virtually a possession of mine. When one lacks possessions, you tend to fixate on whatever little things you have.

Speaking of which. As I laid down on my mat, eager to sleep, I found my fingers straying to the small amulet around my neck. I had forgotten to take it off with the rest of my ranger gear, and I knew it was extremely dangerous to keep it around. But I just couldn't bring myself to get rid of it. Like I said, possessions become extremely valuable when you have a notable lack of them. Especially if they come from your past. With nobody about, I dared to pull it out from under my tunic, peering at the small oval of copper, with the oak leaf emblazoned upon it. Somehow, it was like a lifeline - a reminder of who I was really standing for. I wasn't here for Sir Thomas, or the Scotti King, or even for Evin and Bry. I was here for the Rangers, for Araluen, for the people who were meant to be ruling this land. No matter how many times I repeated the story that I was the farm boy from the Araluen countryside, I was not - I was the ranger girl from Redmont, and I was also that Freshmen girl from Detroit. I had an identity, and no matter how much I masked it, it was still there. And somehow, this was relieving.

I had just tucked the amulet away and was going to try and fall asleep, when the other men who used the tent barged in, bringing with them several torches and an awful lot of noise. I pulled my pillow over my head, but to no avail.

"What did you say that message was?" The one man said, his voice slurred and raspy. Though all the men in the tent were young, and build for running instead of pummeling, I was quite certain that they were more than capable of rendering me unable of doing anything more than breathing.

To my shock, it was Evin's voice that responded, his words in Scotti, and so slurred that I couldn't make anything out. The men burst into raucous laughter, and I looked up, wondering who had conned Evin into getting so staggeringly drunk. Evin, though quite a part of the camp, was not all that fond of excessive drinking.

"Oy, Bretislav, what've ya got there?" Asked one voice, and finally unable to control my curiosity, I stood up, staying back in the shadows to avoid drawing attention.

"Oh, um..." said another man, and I watched as he edged his hand behind his back. In it he delicately grasped a rolled sheet of parchment, tied with a very official looking ribbon.

"It's nothing." Evin suddenly sounded completely sober, his voice warning and dangerous.

"Nothing eh? Then why's he hidin' it?" Asked another man, and the other's murmured their agreement.

Bretislav started retreating towards the back of the tent, towards me, with Evin beside him, as the others advanced. Still unnoticed, I stood stock still, hoping that in their drunken state they would neglect to see that which they didn't expect to.

"It's none of your business, Jabez," Evin replied, his voice clipped and warning. The men were backing up fairly rapidly now, and I was soon to be pinned against the wall. But, even so, my curiosity was starting to win out. And so, against my better judgment, I took a massive risk. I slowly knelt, so that I was shielded from view from the men. Then, just as the outer of the attackers were circling around to surround Bretizlav and Evin, I reached out and plucked the parchment from his hand, before rolling out under the fabric wall of the tent. I guess that rain and snow were a small price for the ability to make a quick getaway.

"Hey! Give it back!" I could hear Bretislav demanding behind me, and Evin chorusing in dismay. The other men insisted they hadn't taken it, and just before I jogged out of earshot, I could hear the beginnings of a brawl.

I ended up crouching underneath a cart, hoping that no one would think to look for the little runner boy who may or may not have been in the tent at the time. I untied the ribbon and opened the note, turning around so that some amount of moonlight would fall on it. To my annoyance, it was written completely in Scotti. This meant that it took me a ridiculously long time to decode, but when I finally got it, I caught my breath. This was important - no, not just important, crucial. Critical. Something the enemy certainly shouldn't know.

Which of course, meant it was my job to get it to the Rangers. Great.

Knowing that a search would begin for this little piece of paper, I thought fast to find a way to copy it down. The only thing I could think of seemed awful risky, but it would have to do. I crawled out from under the cart, starting towards a tent that I knew held a high ranking official. The brawl had stopped now, I could hear as much, and the men were now speaking in loud, confused voices, some more panicked than others. I had little time, I could tell, before a search would start for the thief. And I could _not _get caught with this.

And yet, it seemed that to get further from harm, I had to get closer to danger. As I reached my target tent, I recalled that all high ranked officials had guards in front of their tents. Cursing silently to myself, I started sneaking around the exterior of the tent, searching for a place I could wriggle under to wall. When I found one, I was alarmed to find that I would have to literally army crawl to get in. Reminding myself that I had no choice other than to let Araluen fall to the Scotti, I steeled myself and laid down on the ground. In the silence of the night, the rustle of cloth and the scuffs of my limbs on the dirt sounded like gunshots, though I of course knew they were actually nigh on silent. It was a slow and nerve racking processes, but I somehow managed to get into the tent without being seen. Then, with more speed and silence than ever before, I found a paper, quill, and ink, and got out of there fast in much the same manner as my entry. I retreated to my cart, quickly copying down the information I'd encountered, and then shoved everything but the two identical paper scrolls back into the tent.

And now, there was only the small problem of trying to find a way out of camp. Evin would notice if I was gone, as would lots of others. I would be searched for, maybe for my safety, maybe as a deserter, but either way if I was caught I would be in some serious trouble. And by serious trouble, I mean I would be dead. Or worse, potentially. Which, really, was not my favorite option.

And so, I decided to be patient and wait. I tucked the paper into the bandages that wrapped my chest. As safe a place as any, I decided, thinking that if someone discovered it there I'd have bigger problems.

* * *

Sarah and Will quickly discovered just how the Genovesians had been able to get all over the place without being detected - they had their own ships and docking areas. The pair had been blindfolded and walked along an endless, winding path designed to disorient. It was only after the land had disappeared over the horizon that the blindfolds were removed, and they were able to see just what kind of ship they were occupying. It was clearly built for stealth and speed - riding low in the water, it was streamlined and painted a dark brown color that they could tell would blend perfectly with a nighttime sky, as would the similarly colored sail that rose upon the mast. There were many rowing stations below the main deck, though it did not appear as if their crew was large enough to fill the seats.

"Well that was thoroughly terrifying." Sarah murmured to Will as they stood, looking around at the deck of the ship. "I was sure I was going to fall and die."

"Don't let them know." Will replied hastily, "If they know it frightens you they will try to use it against you."

Sarah nodded her understanding, though she had, of course, already known this. She could understand his need to instruct her, to make sure nothing went wrong. In situations like this, stating the obvious became a sort of anchor - making sure that what seemed to be obvious still proved to be true. She stood close to her mentor, unsure quite why they had decided to un-blindfold them at all.

"Rangers." They whirled around, coming face to face with the Genovesian leader, whose name they had learned was Ricci. "Come, we must speak."

The pair of rangers followed him cautiously into the study of the captain, hands drifting uselessly towards weapons that had not yet been returned. Though of course, Sarah still had a little trick up her sleeve, or more specifically up her boot, in case of emergencies. They entered the man's spacious cabin, which had enough room for a double bed, a large mahogany table, and several lavishly cushioned chairs. On the table was a map, held down by small stones at each corner, and Ricci was standing behind it.

"Why are we here, Ricci?" Will asked, as he and Sarah flanked either side of the table.

"Why do you think, Ranger? We are here to plan." He smoothed his hand over the map, eliminating any wrinkles. "Now. Tell me, where are the ranger storehouses."

"What storehouses?" Sarah said, genuinely confused. Will, however, seemed to think it was a quick thinking ploy, and looked up at her with approval.

"Indeed, what storehouses?" He asked, looking to Ricci.

The Genovesian did not look amused. "Look here, Ranger. If you expect help from us, we will need to have any and all information we might find useful."

Will studied the Genovesian for a moment, before looking down at the map and touching it in several places. "But don't think they'll be there very much longer." He said as Ricci made marks in each place he had pointed out.

"I would not be so unwise." he replied, before glancing up. "And what might one find in these stores?"

Will shrugged. "I've never been to one, Halt's always gone."

Ricci narrowed his eyes. Then, they flicked over to Sarah. "What about you, child. Do you know the contents of these stores?"

Sarah's eyes widened. "Look, I don't know why you're always turning to me, but-"

"I turn to you because you have your priorities in line with mine." The Genovesian cut in, straightening from where he had been bent over the table. "You value your life first, then Araluen, then your secrets. He," Ricci gesture to Will, "has those in a slightly different order, one I'm none to fond of."

Sarah looked to Will, who's face remained entirely impassive. If he was anything other than apathetic towards the man's words, he didn't show it. "I - I'm not too sure that-"

"_What is in the stores?!"_ Ricci shouted, slamming his hand down on the table for effect. Sarah, startled, took a skittering step back, heart racing. Her hand started reaching for her boot, but she froze, deciding that she was not in any actual danger, and that her surprise should be saved for later.

"I don't know!" She replied, trying to make her voice sound strong. "I've never been to one either! I didn't even know they existed until now!"

Ricci shook his head. "You are lying."

"I'm not!" Sarah objected, "Honest to god, I've never ever seen one of these storehouses!"

"But you know what would be in one." He flicked his eyes to her boot, and she knew he had seen her visceral movement towards it. "You're intelligent, you know of your organization - infer."

Again, Sarah looked to Will, whose hand twitched ever so slightly, making the sign for 'a little bit'. She nodded, and then looked Ricci dead in the eye as she spoke.

"Most likely cloaks, knives, bows, arrows, saddles, stuff like that." She told him, forcing herself not to give him any kind of tell, which would let him know she wasn't telling the entire truth. As if sensing she might be deceiving him, he examined her face for a long time, his eyes boring into hers. Finally, he nodded, looking to his map again. "Fine. Where are the rangers now?"

"They were right here," Will said, gesturing to a small port city, "But they have since moved on; I don't know where."

"And where were the Scotti?" Ricci looked over to Sarah again, who shrugged.

"Kind of everywhere." she said, "They followed us onto the mainland, so I assume that they had plenty of troops to do other things."

Ricci nodded again. "And you want us to help curb their numbers."

"Yes." Will replied, looking like he wanted to hit the Genovesian for his haughty attitude. "I assume you can do this?"

"That depends on what you are willing to let us do." Ricci said. "There are some things that would almost certainly wipe out their entire army, but might make the land uninhabitable for quite some time."

Will shook his head. "We can't do that, it renders this whole thing pointless."

"Indeed." Ricci replied, examining the map. "And you won't want to hurt civilians, I suppose?"

"No."

Ricci nodded, scowling darkly. "Alright. I will think on it. Leave."

Will and Sarah, caught off guard by this abrupt dismissal hesitated for a moment before exiting the room and coming out onto the deck once more. "Well that went... better than it could have." Sarah said, looking for something positive to say about it.

Will shook his head, walking over to a rail of the ship and staring off over the infinite blue. "I suppose."

"You don't agree." A statement, not a question.

Will shrugged. "We just revealed some of the best kept secrets in the Corp. I can't say I'm happy."

Sarah joined him, letting the wind tug at her hair. "Will, can I ask you something?" He made a small noise that invited her to continue, "What, um, what are you priorities?"

The silence that followed stretched uncomfortably long, making Sarah wish she hadn't said anything. When Will finally did speak, he sounded both overwhelmed with emotion, and some how devoid of it at the same time. "Alyss, You and Halt and Kathryn, Me, Araluen, then our secrets. He was wrong, my priorities are almost exactly the same. But I fear that our secrets and all the others are linked very tightly together." He sighed. "What if those secrets revealed end up destroying that which I - which we, hold most dear?"

Again, the silence stretched, but this time it was filled with thought instead of tension. "Will, you think too much." Sarah said eventually. "It's depressing."

Will chuckled. "And as we all know, thinking is a dangerous past time."

* * *

_ It was a dark and stormy night,_ Sarah thought grimly, clinging to the main mast of the boat, where she had been for the last hour or so despite the fact that she was tied with a rope to it. She was still convinced that the boat was, at any moment, going to sink. It was tossing wildly, with waves crashing over it at regular intervals. _Sarah clung to the mast with all her might, but even her strength was not enough to keep the boat from splitting in half under the force of the wind and waves. And so went the re-enactment - or pre-enactment I suppose - of the Titanic._

She heard a single cry rise louder than all the others, and strained to hear over the wind. It took her a moment, but she eventually identified it as someone calling "Land, land!" Still clutching to the mast, she slowly gained her feet, trying to see what the lookout clearly saw. There, looking unfortunately far away, Sarah could make out a couple of tiny pinpricks of light, the signs of a town. _Thank the powers that be, _she thought, sinking down to her knees, and willing the ship to hold out just a little longer, just until they made it to shore. She once again tried the reasoning that it had made it all the way though the Mediterranean Sea, and it could make it a little ways further. But as the ship tumbled down into the trough of another massive wave, she went back to willing the ship to stay together.

"Sarah!" she looked up to see Will, looking haggard and tired, holding the end of a severed life line. Horrified, and knowing what would happen if the ship took an unexpected lurch, Sarah, without thinking, released the mast and lunged for the rope, grabbing it tightly in her damp hands. She brought it over to the mast, tying it around again, knotting it several times. Her mentor flopped down beside her, both of them snatching the mast as the ship swayed drunkenly to one side.

"Thanks!" He yelled over the wind.

"No problem!" She yelled back, swallowing her terror as the ship lurched back. "Almost over!"

"We can only hope!" Will replied, checking the knots around his waist. Somehow, though the haze of fright, Sarah noted that Will didn't check the knots that she had just made.

There was almost a half hour more of this terrifying ordeal, before suddenly, it started to get better and better, until it was just a lot of wind and stinging rain. They had reached the shelter of land, breaking the wind for them, and eliminating the worst of the waves. When they entered a secluded cove, leaving behind the lights of the town, even these things disappeared, so that the wind was howling only above them, and the rain came down at a more reasonable, if still soaking, pace. In the darkness it was hard to see, but somehow the Genovesian crew managed to tie the boat off, and get a gangplank out to shore. Sarah, with shaking legs, gained her feet, carefully stepping down to shore, with Will just behind her.

"That was worse than the seas I traveled with the Skandians." Will said softly, resting a hand on her shoulder. "It was very brave of you to retie my life line."

Sarah shrugged. "Not really."

Will shook his head. "You were terrified - as was I. It was extremely brave of you to release the mast for even a moment, especially after seeing my rope snap suddenly." Sarah paled - she hadn't seen that part at all. Unsure what to say, she simply nodded her acknowledgment. Together, they followed the Genovesians to a small set of shanties, one of which they claimed and almost instantly fell asleep in.

* * *

Alyss pored over the papers that Thomas had received that morning. Under the pretense of writing letters of response, she was taking extremely detailed notes on every single missive that passed through his offices, in the hopes that it might be helpful in the future. As yet, she was uncertain how she planned to get said notes to the Rangers, but she figured that the could perhaps consult with Lady Pauline when she arrived.

"How are you doing, dearest?" Alyss looked up from her notes, slyly sliding them off the desk and underneath it, so that it appeared as if she had just finished the letter beneath it. "Not overworking yourself I hope." Thomas came to stand beside her, resting a hand upon her shoulder. She fought off the annoyance and disgust the gesture produced in her, and looked up at him with a tired smile.

"Not at all, Thomas." He insisted on her using his first name, and fearful that he might stop her work with the missives, she did so. "I'm quite happy."

"I'm glad. I myself have no taste for such things, so if you like it, you may do it all you wish." She let out that awful, fake, court laugh, high pitched and shrill, but apparently good enough for Thomas, who simply picked up the letter she had penned a few days before. His eyes scanned over it for a few moments, before he smiled and nodded. "You aren't half bad at this."

Alyss forced her smile to seem genuine. "Yes, I have done this for a while." '_Not half bad', _she thought bitterly, _How I'd love to slap that smile right off your face you little-_

"Will you join us for dinner tonight?" Thomas asked, interrupting her murderous thoughts. "We haven't yet seen you at our table."

She kept up her genuine-fake smile. "Oh dear, I have much to much work here." She gestured broadly at the table. "As soon as the workload dies down, I promise I'll come."

Thomas nodded. "Of course, you are doing so much for me and my kingdom, I should not be interrupting you." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, causing her to stiffen and freeze, mind going too fast for her body to react. Much to Alyss's relief, he then left the room, leaving her alone once again.

_'My kingdom',_ she thought, pulling her notes out again, _kissing me on the forehead, who the hell does he think he is? That bastard usurper deserves to have his-_

"My lady?"

"_What?!_" Alyss snapped, thoroughly annoyed at having her thoughts interrupted by now. However, she was instantly regretful as she saw the young messenger boy, Talbot, cringing in the doorway. "Sorry, Talbot. What is it?"

Talbot, still looking a little frightened, stepped hesitantly into the room. "I, um, I am to tell you that the ambassador of Redmont has arrived."

Alyss, springing from her chair, beamed at the boy, perhaps frightening him more than if she had remained morose. "Really? Show me to her!"

Talbot, bowing slightly, hurried from the room, leading Alyss through the winding passageways of the castle. When they came to the stables, he bowed and exited quickly, not sure exactly what kind of mood Lady Alyss was in.

Alyss hurried through the stables, looking into every stall in an attempt to find her beloved mentor. When she finally did, she let out an inarticulate squeak of excitement, and rushed into the stall, long arms wrapping around Pauline's shoulders. "Pauline, oh Pauline, you have no idea how glad I am to see you!" She cried, burying her face in her almost-mother's shoulder.

Pauline, startled by her one time apprentice's sudden appearance, hesitated a moment before returning the embrace whole-heartedly. "My dear Alyss." she said, gently stroking the young woman's long hair. "I think perhaps you forget your manners." She was of course, jesting, as was evident by the lack of patronizing tone to her voice.

"But Pauline, I've been force to use my manners for the last six weeks at least!" she complained, stepping back slightly. "Thomas thinks that-"

Pauline hastily cut her off. "Not here. Later, someplace safe." Alyss, seeing the wisdom of this, nodded quickly, pasting a cordial smile onto her face.

"Well then, dear courier, allow me to formally welcome you to Castle Araluen. Might I show you to his highness?"

* * *

"He wants you to do what?" Pauline said, the lack of volume in her voice made up for by the pure astonishment in her tone.

"That's right." Alyss said, hand drifting to her still steadily growing midriff, which she had begun to account for by ordering copious amounts of food to her chambers and somehow managing to stuff it all down, or toss it out a window if she simply could eat no more. "And at a most opportune time might I add." she said sarcastically.

Pauline studied Alyss's stomach, gently reaching out herself to feel the slightly rounded surface. "I trust the baby is doing well?"

Alyss shrugged. "How am I to know? I can't exactly ask for a nurse or doctor to take a look at it." She ran her palm over the skin repeatedly, a nervous action she had unwisely begun to develop. "But as far as I can tell, yes."

"Does he kick at all?" Pauline asked.

"Not yet, I don't think it's been long enough." Alyss replied. "As long as he's small enough to pass off as a growing waistline, I doubt I'll be able to feel any kicking."

Pauline nodded her agreement. "Most likely." Her mentor leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. "And what will you do once it can't be passed off as a growing waistline?"

Alyss let out a sigh. "I don't know, Pauline, I don't know. I'm hoping it won't come to that, that all of this will be over by then." She pulled out her notes from a small pocket in her skirt, passing them to Pauline. "And these might help, if we can get them to the Rangers."

Pauline took the notes, flipping through them. "Yes, yes I think they might. But how to get them there is the question."

Alyss nodded, rubbing her abdomen some more. "I don't know how many more questions I can take, Pauline. Will I have to marry this traitor, will I ever see Will again, will Araluen ever be free, how do we get these to the Rangers? Any more and I might just lose my mind."

Pauline leaned forward and patted the younger woman's skirts comfortingly. "Don't fear, Alyss. Will and Halt have never let us down before, and I don't expect they will now."

Alyss nodded again, biting her lip hard. The kind words meant a lot, but no number of nice phrases could keep Alyss from worrying for her dearly beloved, and recently returned, Will.


	21. Chapter 20: The Escapist

**A/N: I am so so so so so sorry for my very long hiatus, and I am even sorrier that they aren't likely to stop. My friend is pestering me to write yet another thing, and I have to work on that along with this and my other fic. But, so that things can come out a tiny bit faster, I have decided that I am going to break my three sections (Kathryn, Sarah, Alyss) in to separate chapters, so you don't have to wait for me to finish all three to post it. Sound good? Good, I thought so. Also, I don't recall if I introduced you to my new beta-er, Jupsi. Everyone say hi to Jupsi! **

**Farmers Daughter: I'm glad you feel that way, because that's how it's likely to stay! D':**

**Tessi: Glad you like it, I try my best to keep things interesting. (Also, you're going to briefly be extremely mad at me in this chapter… sorry! Soon, I promise.)**

**Alright, stories now.**

* * *

"Evin! Dammit Evin you know I can't-"

"Can't what?" He said suddenly, skidding to a halt and whipping around so fast that I very narrowly avoided smacking into him. "Can't keep up? Look here little runner boy, I'm not the one who makes the rules around here." He pointed dramatically to the center of the camp. "They do. And if you plan on getting paid, to send money back to your family, you'd better _learn _to keep up. Understand?"

God, Evin had _never _spoken to me like that. Not when I'd broken his water canteen, not when I'd knocked our tent over, not even when I'd so horribly mispronounced a word that it had come out as an insult and virtually brought the camp to civil war (I had really hoped that one would go through). And now he was yelling at me for asking him to slow down a little bit? What had put a twist in his knickers?

But, even as we took off again, me trying not to breathe too loudly, I knew why he was in such a bad mood. Evin was scared, scared because he and his friend had gotten drunk and almost lost some of the most important papers that had passed through the camp. Evin was scared because he didn't know what would happen when it was reported. Evin was scared for his safety, and possibly for his life. And it was my fault.

_He's the enemy,_ I reminded myself, _You're not supposed to care what happens to him. _And yet…

As it happens, what I had been planning to say to him was not 'I can't keep up', but something more along the lines of, 'I can't keep up in this sector'. This piece of the camp was placed over some pretty rough geography, with random ledges, stones, sand, and other obstacles scattered throughout the paths. And at a full out sprint, I found this to be a little bit tricky. And so, distracted by my guilt at the papers currently crushed against my chest, I didn't put as much attention into my stepping as I should have, and paid the price for not finishing my sentence despite Evin's terseness.

I don't recall actually falling. All I remember is a full out sprint, and then suddenly having that forward energy carry knees and palms across the jagged stones of the ground. I think I cried out, because Evin stopped, though I didn't look up to see him. I had tripped, thrown out my palms to keep my face from making contact with the ground, and then my knees had come down and everything touching the ground had skidded along for a good foot or so. Everything was asphalt burnt, but in left leg in particular was screaming with pain. I myself just let out a soft whimper, biting my lip to keep from outright sobbing.

"Fletcher?" Evin's voice had transformed, going from sharp and biting to soft and worried. "Lord, Fletch what happened?" He knelt beside where I was still on all fours, head bowed.

"What," I started slowly, trying to keep my voice from shaking, "Does it look like happened?" Slowly, I rolled onto my hip, trying to keep from causing any friction against my palms or knees. I wasn't looking, but as soon as my palms and shins were bared, I heard Evin suck in a sharp breath. Deciding this meant I too had to know what had happened, I looked down at myself.

My palms and right shin were streaked with bloody stripes, and where they weren't bleeding they were red and raw, with dirt caking into the whole thing. But that wasn't the worst of it. My left leg appeared to have gone straight over a large and sharp rock, as a long, deep gash ran from my ankle almost to my knee, and it was bleeding profusely, staining what was left of my trousers.

"Fletch," Evin said softly, "I think we need to go to the hospital tent. Right now."

I hesitated for a moment, thinking that this would be the most likely place for my gender to be discovered, but then decided that my shin was no reason for them to examine anywhere else, and that I'd be no use to anybody with a great big nasty infected leg. So I nodded, biting my lip harder as my leg began to throb slightly. Evin, seeing the motion, slipped his arm around my waist, and I looped my arm over his shoulders. Together, and with minimal cursing on my part, he navigated me to my feet, and then began the long and tedious task of walking me to the nearest infirmary.

About half way there, I felt a single manly tear run down my face. I was quick to get rid of it, but Evin saw it, and I could virtually feel a sudden surge of emotion in him, though what emotion it was I couldn't say.

I didn't have long to wonder, however. "Look, Fletch," Evin said, using my nickname once again. "I didn't… I didn't mean for you to get hurt. I didn't even mean to yell at you, really. It's just… I'm a little on edge lately. I'm… I'm sorry."

I swallowed with an effort, tasting blood where I suspected I'd bitten my tongue. "It's fine, Evin." I replied softly, "I – I'm sorry too."

Evin started, pausing for a fraction of a second before continuing to move after a quick glance down at my blood stained legging and sock. "Why are you sorry?"

_Because it's my fault you're on edge, _I thought, _because it's my fault that I fell, and now it's my fault that you're feeling guilty about it. Because it's going to be my fault when your army falls, and it might be my fault when you die, or when Bry dies, or when any of the other men who you and I know and love. Because it's _my fault. But of course, I didn't say any of that. I just left it hanging, leaning heavily on Evin to try and keep pressure off my leg.

When we did reach the medicine tent, I found it surprisingly empty. Clearly, the war had not yet started. As soon as we walked in, a young assistant took me from Evin, who wished me luck before he was expelled to allow for more room. The assistant took me over to a small stool, when he helped me sit without hurting myself, and then asked me to wait while he fetched one of the doctors. While I waited, I examined my palm, picking pieces of gravel carefully from my skin.

When the doctor finally did come over, I was shocked by how young he was, and how familiar he seemed. He couldn't be much older than I, and didn't look like the kind to be employed by major armies. But, he knelt down, and examined my leg for a moment, then, he stood again, saying, "I'll need to get some medicines, but I don't think you'll need stitches."

His voice, or more specifically his accent, triggered my memory, and I sucked in a breath, forcing myself to remain silent. How on earth did Malin get all the way from the mainland to here? And yet, here he was, long hair, accent and all. As he returned, I fought to keep from feeling flustered, remembering our last encounter. He started dabbing some liquid on my leg, and I hissed, as it burned worse than hydrogen peroxide. He apologized softly, but continued the application and wrapped it in a bandage, before moving on to my other leg and then my palms.

As he was doing this, I was starting to feel an idea forming in my head. It was a crazy idea, a totally, totally insane idea, but it was the only one I'd had so far, and I needed to move fast. So, as he took my hand delicately in his and started dabbing at it as well, I leaned in and whispered, "Malin."

His head whipped up, staring at me with a careful indifference. "Do I know you?"

"Um, sort of?" He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, continuing work on my hand without looking down. "We danced one time."

He scowled suddenly, his previously gentle tending suddenly sending a jolt of pain up my arm. "Oh. You're one of _them, _are you? Are they starting you so young now? Did you do this on purpose, just so you could mock me?"

My eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "Malin, I don't-"

"You know, where I come from, having long hair isn't anything to be ashamed of. And I am fed up with you all mocking me for it!" He thrust my hand back at me, standing abruptly. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

"No, I won't excuse you!" I said, softly but fiercely, and grabbed his wrist firmly before dragging him back down to my level, despite the immense amount of pain it caused. He looked startled, and more than I little indignant. "Look Malin, I have no idea what you're talking about, but whatever it is, you're wrong." He opened his mouth to say something more, but I cut him off, "Look, can we talk about this someplace more private?"

He eyed me warily, but finally nodded. I released him, and slowly gained my feet, and followed him to the back of the tent, where there was a small closed off area made of cloth. Not quite as private as I might have hoped, but better than nothing. We stepped inside, and he turned to face me with that same cold look on his face. "Alright. What do you want."

I lowered my voice, making him lean in to hear me. "Okay, I don't know what you thought I meant out there when I said we danced, but it wasn't whatever you thought it was, I swear. I meant," I gently unbuttoned the top of my shirt, revealing just the top of the bandages that wrapped my entire torso, "that _we danced once._"

For a moment, nothing registered but confusion. Then, I saw one flash of understanding, but not recognition. "You're a girl." He whispered, looking from the bandage tops to my face and back. Then, I saw his eyes widen. "You're _that _girl!"

"Yeah, that girl." I affirmed, buttoning my shirt back up.

"How did you get here?" he asked, looking around as if the answer could be found floating in the air.

"I could ask the same of you!" I replied, "Because as a matter of fact I actually live in this country!"

His eyes grew sad. "I'm here because the Scotti raided my village, enslaving some and killing others. I don't know why they were there, only that they were, and that I'm lucky my mother and I know enough about herbs to be helpful."

His words hurt more than my leg. I knew why the Scotti had been there – they had been following us. Like I didn't have enough guilt stacked on my head already. "I'm sorry." I murmured, and he nodded his acknowledgment of the sentiment.

"Why have you come to me?" He asked into the silence, his eyes looking deep into mine, searching. "Why not keep your secret, and move on with whatever it is you're doing here?"

I sighed, looked around, and then, deciding that this was one little piece of information I simply couldn't let slip, I stepped even closer and whispered right into his ear, "Because I'm not here for the Scotti – I'm here for their opponents, and I need help getting out of here for a while."

Malin looked at me, wide eyed. "You came to _me, _the virtual slave, to help with that?" I hesitated, then nodded, looking at the cloth door pointedly.

"Yeah. And here's how we're going to do it."

* * *

"This is not a good idea." Malin told me for the fifth time, and I rolled my eyes. Even so, he passed me the pack, and then passed me a rough flax brown sack, like the kind you get bulk rice in. As my knuckled rapped against the contents, I heard the familiar hollow thud of a guitar, and smiled.

"You have a better one?" I asked, shouldering the pack and then tucking the guitar under my arm. "Because I would be thrilled to hear it."

He shook his head. "On your head be it."

"With any luck," I agreed, hoping that this plan wasn't just going to heap yet more guilt on my shoulders. "Now, tell me your alibi."

This time it was his turn to roll his eyes. "I was trying to treat your wound, but it became infected too quickly. It was incredibly fast, faster than anything I'd ever seen. You're hallucinating, with a high fever, and I'm not certain how to treat it. For that reason, no one can be in to see you, lest they catch it as well. And, as for my guitar, it is being borrowed by another slave on the far side of camp."

I smiled at him. "Thank you, Malin. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, you'd better." He replied, "This is no small risk."

"I know." I sighed, and looked away from him. I was reluctant to leave, despite the fact that I'd actually be getting further away from danger myself. It all seemed so… dependent. If one single little piece failed, the whole charade would come crashing down.

I made a move to leave, but Malin interrupted me with a sharp "Wait!" I paused, turning back to look at him. He looked a little uncomfortable as he said, "I, um, I still don't know your name."

I puffed out a silent laugh, and told him, "Kathryn. That's my name."

"Kathryn." He repeated. "You seem to know what you're doing with that instrument. Would you mind… would you mind teaching me when you come back?"

Now there was a fine bit of irony for you. Back home, Malin had been a guitar god; you know, the kind of guy who says 'I'm okay' before playing a ridiculously hard riff and then shrugs as if it were nothing. He had always been better than me – part of the reason I didn't have the courage to talk to him. But here, he hardly knew how the strings were meant to work, let alone how to play the damn thing. Huh.

"Sure, Malin." I said, adding a silent, _assuming I do come back _onto the end. I could think of fifty different reasons why I wouldn't return, and at least half of them weren't particularly pleasant for me. I figured that, if I did manage to come back, I owed Malin at least that much.

And with that, without another word, I left the tent, exiting right through the front of the now sleeping tent. I walked at a brisk pace towards the edge of the camp, and within ten minutes I was at the boundary. I had an alibi ready for any perimeter guards, but was not stopped – also some good information to have. I made a mental note to write it down on the back of the paper when I got a chance. And so, I was free, or at least, kind of free. Freeish.

I won't go into all the details about how I walked, by myself, for a couple of days, to the nearest tavern, because that's boring. I had known it was going to take longer to get back than it had to get here, because A) I didn't have a horse, B) the rangers would have moved to their next camp, and then most likely back to their rendezvous with the other groups, and C) I was in the middle of a great whopping plain, and had no idea which direction we'd come from aside from 'kinda that way'. So, much of my time was spent trying to find a road I could use. Then, after finding the road, I spent a lot of time getting to a village to try and orient myself with. When I did reach the small town of Ipswich (that's right, the one from Monty Python's Parrot Sketch) I was almost out of food, and had at that point become very concerned about the duration of my survival. Of the fifty reasons I'd had that I wouldn't return, I'd be too stupid to pack something to hunt with wasn't one of them. Fifty one reasons, now.

Wen I saw a tiny glowing light in the pre-dusk dimness, I had to suppress a little cry of joy. I sped up a little bit, despite the ache in my feet, and soon saw another light appear, and then another and another, until it became clear that this was a small town. As I approached, I could make out the shapes of people moving around, finishing up their days work so they could go home and have dinner. A man of perhaps forty was walking across the road within earshot, and so I called out, "Excuse me, sir?"

He turned with surprise, and peered into the trees. "Aye, what's the matter lad?"

Having grown used to the term, I didn't miss a beat, "Could you tell me what town this is? I'm afraid I'm quite lost."

The man examined me as I came to a stop before him. "You all alone?" He didn't sound like a creeper, despite how it may look on the page – he sounded concerned.

"Yes sir." I replied, "I'm a traveling minstrel type – I play music at inns and the like."

"At your age?" He looked me up and down. "You can't be more than ten!"

I reminded myself that girls acting as guys usually looked younger, and forced myself to smile. "Yes sir. My parents died of fever, and I had to find some way to survive."

The man nodded sympathetically. "I see. Well lad, the tavern is just a little ways down the road, and you've come to the town of Ipswich."

_Are you sure we're not in Bolton? _I wanted to say, but I refrained, knowing he couldn't possibly get the reference. "Thank you sir."

"I hope you find your way to wherever it is you're headed." The man said, "God bless you."

I smiled, wondering if such religiousness was common in the small towns of Araluen. "Thank you, sir," I repeated, thinking just how much I needed blessings at this point.

The tavern was indeed just down the road, and for such a small town it was quite full. I got the feeling that it was more of a social gathering area than a tavern, but it would do. I paused outside, psyching myself up to be ready for the role I was about to play. I was a traveling minstrel, someone who went to taverns and played for people on a regular basis. This meant I was gregarious, loquacious, and all those other SAT worthy words for a social butterfly. You know, that thing I'm not. But I had to pretend, and pretend convincingly if I ever intended to reach the Rangers. And so, as I stepped in the door, I forced a smile onto my face, and waved greetings to people who replied to them somewhat suspiciously. Small town, suspicious of strangers, not that strange. So, I brushed it off, and walked up to the part that looked kind of like a bar. Behind the counter, the inn keeper stood cleaning a mug, just like they always seem to be doing in the movies. I managed to brighten my smile even more by sheer force of will, and I said, "Good evening, sir!"

"Good evenin' lad." He replied, looking out from under his bushy eyebrows, and from over his bushy mustache. "What can I do fer ye?"

"Sir, I'd like to make a bargain with you." I ran a hand through my hair - that nervous gesture by now firmly set into my system. "See, I'm a traveling minstrel, and I was wondering if I could play for your tavern and earn meals, as well as some supplies for when I have to leave again."

The man examined me. "Aren't ye a bit young to be travlin' 'round on yer own?"

My smile dissolved into a childish smirk. "Yes, yes I am." References, references everywhere.

The man nodded, as if this explained everything. "Well, I s'pose that depends on how good ye' are."

"I promise I will not disappoint," I told him, "It will be like nothing you've ever heard."

The man nodded again. "Alright, you've got yourself a deal. Three days here, ye' get a room and meals, an' supplies for yer journey."

I beamed. "Thank you so much sir."

"Of course laddy." The man nodded at a lonely chair tucked in one corner. "You can use that if ye want, but you'll want to pull it in front of the fire."

I nodded my acknowledgement of these words, before doing as he said, dumping my pack on the floor, and pulling out Milan's guitar. I had done this earlier in my journey when I'd stopped to rest briefly, and had examined it thoroughly. It wasn't as nice as a modern day guitar, as might be expected, but he had taken my advice when it came to the pegs and so I could tune it now. The strings were catgut or something like it, and felt weird to strum, but they made a sound that was close enough as to be passable. There were no frets, so I had to be very accurate as to where I placed my fingers, but having also played upright bass, this was no problem. I had had to make myself a pick, as I was no good without one, but it had been simple, even with the pathetic little knife Milan had put in my pack. As I settled it on my legs, and started softly tuning it, a young girl of between eight and nine leaned forward in her chair, across her table, and exclaimed, "What is that?"

The rest of the tavern, hearing her exclamation, looked over as well. Forcing myself not to look self-conscious at the attention, I smiled at her and said, "This would be a guitar. My friend made it, and I learned how to play it." I had finished tuning it, and so, in demonstration I strummed a G chord. Everyone leaned forward, some softly remarking at what a lovely sound it made.

"Well lad, don't just sit there – show us a song!" The voice came from somewhere I couldn't see, and the rest of the tavern joined in enthusiastically.

Smiling slightly, I tried to think of a song that wouldn't seem _too_ out of place here. Finally, I decided upon 'If I Had A Million Dollars', because it had that old folk-y feel, and was simple enough to play on guitar that it would be a good one to warm up on. However, I was very aware that there was a bunch of context missing, like every single line, so I told them, "This is a song I learned from a man who lived far far away, and in their country they call their money 'dollars'. There's some other things that don't translate that well, so if you want to ask me about them after, I can explain them." People nodded, looking as if they wanted me to just get on with it. So, I swallowed, cleared my throat, gave my guitar another experimental strum, and began.

_If I had a million dollars, (If I had a million dollars!)_

_Well I'd buy you a house, (I would buy you a house.)_

I did my best to change my voice enough to make it clear that there were two people singing the song. I don't know if it worked quite the way I wanted it to, but in any event, I kept on going, and went through every line except for the spoken ones, whether they'd understand it or not. It's no short song, and so it had been quite a while when I finally sang the last lyrics;

_If I had a million dollars,_

_I'd be rich!_

As I strummed the final chords, I realized that the room had fallen silent, and that everyone was staring at me in amazement. I looked up from where I had been staring intently at the floor, and gazed around. For a moment, I only met blank gazes, glazed with shock. Then, as one, the room erupted in applause, clapping and calling for more. I smiled, encouraged by their support. Who cares that I may have changed the entire course of history, I was alive, and I was going to get a meal, and I was going to get to the rangers.

I went through 'Unwell', 'How You Remind Me', 'Fix You', 'Over My Head', 'Wild Horses', and 'Hotel California' (guitar solo and all). Each one was just as popular as the last, and people crowded forward, astonished by my marvelous new instrument. I was more than just a rare minstrel in these parts now, I was a minstrel with music unlike any they'd ever heard before. I guess they had the right to be impressed.

After 'Hotel California', I found my voice starting to crack, and decided that I needed a drink. "I need a break guys," I said, and the crowd protested loudly. Laughing at their enthusiasm, I added, "I'll come back! I'm here all night, and tomorrow and the next day! Here," I said, passing the guitar to the girl who had exclaimed about it, along with the pick. "Don't drop it, I'm going to have dinner, alright?"

"Kay!" She said excitedly, using the pick to quizzically pluck a string. As she did, I moseyed over to the counter, and grinned at the bartender. "Did I earn my dinner?"

"I should say so!" he exclaimed, sliding a mug full of ale over to me. I tried to look grateful, and took a sip of the bitter drink, as he poured some thick stew into a bowl. "That fancy instrument of yours will bring more business in than all of last month! People from Notlob down the road might even come, when the word gets out."

When he said Notlob I just about choked on my ale. Brownie points to you if you understand why.

Anyways. I ate my dinner, then picked up my guitar and started playing again. About halfway through "The A Team", the crowd became suddenly unresponsive, as a couple of people I didn't have time to look at entered. I finished, and there was polite and soft applause. I looked up, and saw everyone looking pointedly at their plates, or the floor, and two massive Scotti warriors looming over the bartender, who was hurriedly preparing a meal for them. I went through four or five more songs like that, before the Scotti left, and the entire crowd let out a collective sigh, as did I. There were a lot less runners than warriors, and there had been a serious possibility of being recognized.

After that, people became a bit more responsive again, but the mood of new-ness had been killed. Soon, the owner announced that he was closing, and people began to leave. I myself slipped Malin's guitar back into its bag, and re-shouldered my pack. In silence, the tavern owner led me to a room. I thanked him, and bid him good night, before exhaustedly collapsing into my bed.

* * *

The next two days were much the same as the beginning of the night had been, with people being very enthusiastic, and indeed coming from Notlob (I still couldn't get over that) to see the guitar at work. No more Scotti showed up, which somewhat dispelled my fears of being searched for. I wondered how Malin was doing with holding up the charade for so long. It's not like extended sickness was uncommon here, but still.

When it was time to leave, the tavern keeper was very generous in giving me supplies, saying that I had more than paid for them with my services. I can't say I argued with him – I had brought a lot of people in, and I needed those supplies. So, my pack was marginally heavier when I set off again, now with some idea of where I was going.

I had to stop only two more times along the way, as I was able to follow a straight path to where the Rangers were going to meet. When I finally came close, I couldn't see the camp, but I knew it was there – I had gotten to see a map at my last town, and had been calculating my distance. But, it got me thinking. If I went into the camp and handed the paper to somebody, they would insist that I stay. There was just no way I could be allowed to go back if they knew I'd gotten away, no matter what I told them. They'd tell me it was too dangerous in such a large camp, that the chances of me being discovered was too great. But, there were some things left to do. I needed to get this guitar back to Malin, for one thing. It was his life's work, I couldn't just throw it arbitrarily away. Then, there was the matter of me getting better at the Scotti language, and the fact that I now had a way to take extremely valuable information to the Rangers, even if I could only go on occasion. I could send others, too, if I was certain they were on my side. It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up, for the same reason I hadn't fled right at the beginning when I'd had the chance. I couldn't. I was positive that Halt was going to be royally pissed at me, but I figured it would be worth it.

So, when I finally did locate the cleverly concealed ranger's camp, I did not come in with a great loud 'I'm home!' and greet all of my friends. Instead, I snuck in as best I could without a ranger cloak, and simply slipped the paper under the edge of one of the tents, only pausing to add a quick line of script with some mud nearby and a thin stick. Then, I was out of there, heading quickly back the way I'd come. I might have to return by different routes, as the novelty of my guitar would have worn off in the towns I'd already visited, and it would also get the rangers off my trail. I took care to walk only where there were ruts in the road, so that the prints would be wiped out with the next wagon to go through. But, as I walked away, I felt very keenly the words I'd written on my paper.

_I'm sorry, Halt._

* * *

**P.S. flax, though it is a flower, can also be used to make a soft but scratchy fabric-ish thing. Look up 'flax cloth' if you're interested**

**Also, if I seem to be missing divider lines, my apologies, I can't figure out how to make them in Word.**


	22. Chapter 21: Us Against the World

**A/N: My deepest apologies to you for my belatedness - I really am trying, really. Really. But, more importantly, I apologize that it took so long, **_**and**_** it's kinda short - it's just trying to match the times up together-ish. So... I'm trying. Really, I am. **

**Farmer's Daughter: Yeah, I like to mix things up a bit, add some drama with a 'let's do something weird and crazy'. Actually, The A-Team is a song by Ed Sheeran, but close enough. **

**Tessi: Yeah, sorry 'bout that... but don't worry, it's gonna be freaking awesome, no buts about it. I already know how it goes down, it'll be beast. But, just to be inconsistent, I actually am going to please you for once, though it's entirely coincidental - Halt and Co. is this entire chapter, so... **

**Jupsi: I would have taken your advise about the Skandian accent, except I can't remember how it was written in the books, nor have I ever actually heard the accent of someone from there. Just FYI, I didn't ignore you.**

* * *

"I am going to kill that girl." Halt said, his voice sounding deceptively calm despite the words he said. "If she lives long enough for me to find her I am going to kill her." Without another word he crumpled the note, dropped it, and stalked off, completely ignoring the people he had briefly been so excited (and not so excited) to see. Sarah and Will, both very confused, watched him go, wondering what on earth could make him so angry. Knowing her friend was involved, Sarah quickly stooped to grab the ball of parchment, opening it up with care to avoid tearing its wet edges. It had rained the night before, and it seemed that the tent it had been found in had gotten a little damp. When she finally managed it, the ink had run, the words were smudged, but still legible.

"Oh my god," she breathed, reading it over a second time, and then a third. "Oh my god."

"What?" Will gently took the paper from her hands, then let out a whistle. "Oh my god."

"Yeah, I may have said that already," Sarah muttered, looking around the clearing. "I guess that'd be why she didn't come out to meet us."

Will nodded, carefully folding the paper in fourths. "She's in trouble, that's for sure."

Through unspoken agreement, they hurried after Halt, with the Genovesians following close behind. Halt had not been happy to see them to say the least, but then again, he hadn't been in a particularly good mood to start off with. He had greeted Sarah and Will with some measure of relief, which Sarah now realized was because now, at least, he knew one of his apprentices was safe.

"Wait, Halt!" Will called, as the man entered what appeared to be the officer's tent. "Halt, what does this all mean?"

"It means." Halt replied, "That Kathryn had a chance to escape - no, that she _did_ escape - and decided to go back." He unrolled one of the maps ferociously, and, considering how hard it is to do something like that ferociously, it was pretty impressive.

"But how did she get captured in the first place?" Will asked, Sarah and he fanning out to either side of him to watch as he set up model armies, first the Scotti, and then the relatively tiny amount of ranger pieces.

"She did it on purpose."

"What?" Sarah gasped, ignoring the Genovesians as they too came to look at the map.

Halt looked at her. "You heard me. She sneezed, drawing their attention in the first place. She decided that, instead of running with the rest of us, she would be a distraction while we got away." He glared at the map, as if trying to burn a hole through it. "Like we _needed_ a distraction!"

"But she got away," Sarah said softly, hoping to throw a better spin on things.

"And went back!" Halt snapped, turning his glare on her briefly before turning it back to the page. "If that doesn't cast suspicion on her I don't know what will."

If took the both of them a while to figure out what Halt had just said. "Wait." Will said, "You can't seriously think-"

"No." Halt sighed, seeming to deflate as he did, the lack of anger leaving a big hole where it had been. "No, I can't seriously think. But others might."

"She went back to get more information!" Sarah commented, "Surely there's nothing suspicious in that!"

"But she didn't sign the note." Halt said, "She didn't greet us, didn't give us a chance to ask questions; she has certainly set herself up to look like a turncoat."

A brief silence ensued, but it was quickly broken by Ricci. "Well. If you think her information will be doubted, do not use it. Simple." Halt gave the man an unfriendly look. "It does not matter. What does matter is that your country is returned, no?"

Though it was clear to all present that none of the rangers seemed to agree, Halt gestured for the Genovesian to continue. "What information did she give to you?"

Halt pointed to an area of the map. "Here. They have a major supply chain that passes through an extremely vulnerable area, but that is very well hidden - this is why we didn't notice it before. If we can attack there, we may weaken their army to the point where they implode."

Ricci nodded. "Good, very good. What is the harm in sending out a scout?" Even as he spoke, the man made a small gesture with his hand, and one of his men backed out of the tent. _No time to wait,_ Sarah supposed, but she had no doubt that there would soon be a ranger tailing him. "But, that is not why we have been brought, is it?"

"No." Will agreed, "It's not." The silence in the room spoke louder than a crowd.

Ricci nodded. "I see. We will do all we can." The rangers did not thank him - indeed, a terse nod was barely mustered. But Ricci grinned nonetheless. "I think this will help you, Rangers - help get inside the head of your enemies who hire us as well." Then, flaunting his superior position, he left the tent without another word.

Halt let out another long sigh. "Though I can't say I'm glad they're here, I do hope they get something done."

"Only the right things, I hope." Sarah murmured, and the other two looked at her. "Well, if Kathryn's going back to the encampments, won't she be in the line of fire of... whatever it is the Genovesians are going to do?"

Halt nodded. "But there's not much we can do. Our only hope is that The Genovesians get there and leave before she arrives, and this all will be over."

"Can't we..." Sarah insisted, before pausing. "We can't. There's _nothing _we can do, is there?"

Halt shook his head. "I'm afraid not. If there was, I would be doing it."

Another gloomy silence descended. Halt was, of course, the one to break it. "We need to send someone to trail that scout," _1-0 Sarah, _she thought, "And then we need to start preparing for a battle. Whether this lead goes anywhere or not, we should have some kind of militia forming up around here soon, and we need to be as ready as they are." Sarah and Will nodded, and followed Halt out of the tent.

* * *

When the lookout sprinted into the camp at full speed, the entire world seemed to hold its breath. Anyone who had been seated wasn't anymore, some with their hands on the hilt of their saxe, while others had their arrows nocked and already to half draw. For her part, Sarah had snatched at her throwing knife, which she had gotten quite good with other the past months, and was holding it daintily between her fingers. If something was coming, she sure as hell wasn't going to hide behind her mentors any longer.

However, all of it was for naught. The lookout, seeing a large number of weapons pointed at him at once, skidded to a stop and breathlessly announced, "Don't get your knickers in a twist - Horace is here, and he's brought reinforcements!"

A collective cheer rose up from the rangers, followed quickly by another as the aforementioned reinforcements came into view. Leading them was a very tired looking, fairly battered, and yet somehow still smiling Horace, followed closely by the Rangers who had accompanied him. Behind them was a motley crew of men, young and old, rich and poor, but all carrying some sort of weapon.

However, this was not what surprised Sarah. What surprised her were the group of extraordinarily tall, impossibly buff men who were bringing up the rear. She had known the Skandians were big, but not _this_ big!

A thunderstorm of greetings ensued, close to fifty voices calling out to each other from across the camp. However, one voice rang above the rest.

"Will Treaty!" It boomed, "Is that you?"

"Yes, Erak!" Will called back with a laugh, "Who else would it be?"

Sarah watched as Erak lumbered over, half expecting the ground to start shaking as he came near. "I hear you've got yourself a bit of a problem." Erak said, nodding briefly to Halt as he did so.

"So we have." Will agreed, taking Erak's outstretched hand with a wince as he found his own crushed.

Erak nodded solemnly, and looked about to say something, before stopping and looking at Sarah. "And who's this?"

"This is my apprentice, Sarah." Will introduced, and Sarah gave a small wave, accompanied by a small smile.

"Oh, is this the lass I've heard about? The famous Will Treaty's Apprentice?" He proffered a hand. "You've got a mighty good teacher, and don't you forget it."

A little afraid, Sarah took the big man's hand. "Don't worry, I don't think I will anytime soon." Surprisingly, Erak took her hand very carefully, putting only enough pressure on her hand to be firm, instead of painful. She smiled then, understanding instantly that yes, this was the same man as described in the books - kind, jovial, and playful amongst his friends. However, as he turned away and revealed the massive battle axe slung over his shoulder, Sarah also remembered that he was a two sided man - kind on one side, but a vicious warrior on the other. If he was as good a fighter as in the books as well... Sarah decided she would stay well away from him during the battles.

"Will!" Came a somewhat softer call from the midst of the crowd. "Halt, Sarah!" It was Horace, of course, wading through the hubbub to reach them. "What a relief it is to see you!" Up close, it was obvious that the smile was a grim one, and the battered look was more than just a look.

"I could say the same for you!" Halt replied as the two younger men briefly embraced. "We thought we'd been left for dead."

Horace's smile faded even more. "Don't get your hopes up - they may look like a lot, but from what I saw during our raids, they're small compared to what we're up against."

Will clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on Horace, surely it's not that bad."

Horace perked suddenly, as if remembering something. "Oh yes, I forgot. I brought someone for you." He peered around the crowd, before standing up on his tiptoes and calling over the head of others, "Malcolm!"

The tiny man came skittering out from amidst the other men, looking as if he had been bounced around like a pinball. He smiled at Halt and Will and greeted them, before his eyes landed on Sarah. "Feeling better?" He asked her, looking her up and down.

"In some ways." She replied with a smile. "A lot better than a few minutes ago, definitely."

The small man nodded, "Yes, and what of the other girl? Cat-Hurin, or something...?"

"Yes, where is Kathryn?" Horace asked, "I don't see her."

Sarah bit her lip and looked to her mentors. Will shook his head, saying, "It's a long story."

Horace swallowed and nodded, but did not press further. "Alright. Then what are we going to do for dinner for all these men - you know Skandians have an appetite."

Halt paused only briefly, before tapping Erak on the shoulder and saying something to him that Sarah couldn't make out. Then, the ranger stepped back and covered his ears. Sarah only just barely had time to copy the action before Erak bellowed, at deafening volume, "_EVERYBODY QUIIIIIEEEEET!"_

Understandably, in the instants that followed, the clearing fell silent, for a large part because most of the people in the clearing couldn't hear much anymore. "Thank you." Halt said into the deafened silence. "Now, would all of the rangers, and anyone else proficient with a bow, please go out and try to catch something to eat - we're going to need all the food we can get. Everyone else, please start setting up cooking fires, tents, but be sure you can leave on the fly - we don't know when we'll be departing." Though Halt was finished, no one moved, still stunned by the force of Erak's voice.

"And, break!" Sarah muttered to herself, imagining the whole scene as a massive football team getting ready to start a game. Without waiting for anyone else to move, re-unslung her bow, re-nocked the arrow, and, seeing a large bird of some variety gliding lazily overhead, took a calculated risk and aimed, drew, and fired. Much to her relief, the arrow killed the bird cleanly, so that it dropped silently into the midst of the crowd. "That's one." She said, feeling just a little bit badass. This seemed to spur people into motion, someone snatching her bird up and tossing it by the already existing cook fire as everyone spread out into the forest, or started moving things back and forth off of pack horses, or setting things up.

In the midst of all the bustle, Sarah felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Will looking at her with a smile, yet somehow managed to still be serious. "Nice shot." He said, looking up at the sky as if expecting to see an instant replay.

"Well," Sarah said with a shrug, "I had a good teacher."

* * *

"The girl's report was sound." Ricci's man Farley told Halt, Horace, and Will as they pored over the hand drawn map that he had drawn, comparing it to the map they had. "There is a major supply train route there, coming every two weeks. The loss of one train could be very damaging."

Sarah twisted her neck around to examine the picture right side up. It was a gorgeous drawing, which is saying something for a map. She had no doubt that Farley could be a very successful artist if he chose. And yet he chose to be an assassin... interesting. The only color on the map was a bright red spot right where Kathryn had identified the supply train to be.

"How many would we be up against?" Horace asked, his left hand straying to his sword hilt.

"Three hundred men, perhaps - supply trains of this nature are not heavily armed, and many of them would not be warriors."

"Three hundred seems pretty heavily armed to me." Sarah muttered, and Farley looked up at her.

"Not when you are fighting an army of thousands." He replied, and, feeling a little put out and more than a little worried, Sarah fell silent on the issue.

"We could take them?" Halt asked.

"Easily."

"Then it's settled." Horace said, straightening. "We'll leave at sundown."

Will grabbed his friend's forearm before he could leave, however. "Horace, wait. How are we going to hide all these men on the road? If the Scotti find out we're gathering an army, and know where we are, we'll be wiped off the face of the earth within a couple of days."

Horace nodded slowly. "You're right. We'll have to go in smaller groups again."

Halt nodded, "A pain for logistics, but I think it would be best. However, there's a fork in the road not too far from here - we can send two parties at a time, just one will have to take a longer route."

"Alright, I'll start setting up the groupings." Will said with a nod, before ducking out of the tent and starting to call the people together.

"What of Ricci and my companions?" Farley asked, looking abruptly very startled.

"Some of us will still be here when they get back." Halt dismissed, waving a hand to shoo the thought away. "Their fault they're taking so long, anyway."

"They may bring important information!" Farley objected, following behind Halt as he attempted to walk away.

"Then we'll send out emergency messengers."

"But-"

"Enough!" Halt snapped, whirling on the man. "If you think I haven't thought this through already, you're wrong." For a moment, they just stared into each other's eyes, a quiet standoff. When Farley finally dropped his, Halt nodded, satisfied. "The first group will leave as soon as we're ready."

With that, Halt left. Will followed after a moment, simply shrugging at Sarah as she looked at him questioningly. Farley, left behind in the tent, seemed oddly worried for an assassin. Wondering if this could be a tactical advantage, Sarah casually walked over to him. "Why the long face?" She asked, and he looked up with surprise.

"I am sorry, I do not understand." He replied, and Sarah sighed.

"Why are you sad?" She tried.

For a moment, it seemed he wouldn't answer. "My brother," Farley finally admitted, "He is in the group that is yet to return. I am worried for him."

"Isn't he an assassin too?" She inquired, and was surprised to receive a reproachful look in response.

"We are both _mercenaries,_ yes." He said, stressing the title. Sarah just shrugged good naturedly - if he didn't like the first name, let him have the second. "But he is younger than I, and it is my duty to protect him." Seeming uncomfortable, Farley suddenly left the tent, without another word.

"Well, then." Sarah said to the empty space left behind. "I see how it is." And so, filing the information away, Sarah too exited the tent, leaving it empty.

* * *

**Again, now typing in word and asterisks don't transfer, so I hope I have all my lines in order :)**


	23. Chapter 22: Smooth Criminal

**A/N: *smacks face into table* Okay guys. I am really. Really. Really sorry. Part of the reason I was so slow before was because of fandoms, and guess what? My friends just got me into Dr. Who. So, blame my no good dirty rotten great great grandfriends (brownie points for getting that unrelated reference). Also, blame LotR. It's not helping. But this's here now…**

**Noxy the Proxy – hope you get far enough to see this, thanks for your support!**

**Farmer's Daughter – Haha, thanks! Yeah, I've read the Brotherbands, but I am unsure just how to get them involved, seeing as I have no idea how their time period matches up with Ranger's Apprentice, so… But yes, if I see an opportunity I will definitely slip them in.**

**Ranger Robbin – …. Lots of stuff. We'll just go in order I guess. Yes, LotR is amazing, doing a speech on it soon for a class actually. I guess you must have good taste, if you've seen/read all those references XD. I'm sorry for the long wait, but like I said, my friends are evil… Oh, and thanks for your… support/threats XD.**

**Tessi – Alyss, yes, Justin, not so much. Three chapters from now he may make a reappearance, but until then…. Sowwy.**

* * *

Alyss knew that from the moment she had walked in with Thomas, Pauline had been aware of her frustration. Having taught her everything she knew, her teacher could read the little things she was doing that compensated her angered reactions – slightly too broad smile, hands held unnaturally flat and still, and so on. Actually, Alyss was a bit surprised that Thomas hadn't noticed it as well, as she was so distressed that she was having trouble disguising it at all. He had insisted on having her walk in to his first meeting with Pauline upon his arm, and this held her uncomfortably close to him. It wasn't the fact that he was close to her that bothered her persay, as she had been expected to be on the arm of more unpleasant men than she could count on her fingers in the name of diplomacy. No, what was worrying her was that if Thomas turned, and happened to bump against her midriff in any way, he could potentially notice the growing curve of her stomach, which was currently hidden cleverly beneath a voluminous dress.

"Greetings, courier," Thomas said, and Alyss fought to remain calm at the derogatory tone in his voice. Trust him to be, on top of all else, a sexist pig. "My apologies for meeting with you so late, but I've been very busy."

Pauline smiled brightly, coming to her feet in a single graceful movement despite her age, making Alyss wonder if she could ever be as graceful as her mentor. "No need to apologize, your majesty – you are a busy man." She made a small bowing motion, before straightening and saying, "My name is Vivian Elswood."

"A pleasure I'm sure." His voice, however, belied that he was not as sure as he said. "Please, sit." It was with some relief that Alyss did so, allowing her to politely pull away from the young 'royal'. As the others began to speak, she breathed deeply, trying to pull herself back together.

The meeting was surprisingly long, considering that all the information 'Vivian' supplied was forged. However, as Alyss listened, she realized that not only was Pauline providing an alibi for being here, she was also slyly coercing Thomas into providing information in return, information that Alyss dutifully logged in her mind under the 'send to Rangers' category. Of course, there was still the matter of figuring out how to send anything to them at all. _When evil never rests,_ Alyss thought darkly, though a carefully impassive expression remained locked onto her face.

When the meeting came to an end, they all stood, Pauline bowing slightly again, coupled with some sweet words Thomas reached for Alyss' hand, and she felt all her carefully built up neutrality towards him waver. Perhaps Pauline saw something on her face, because without warning she let out a gasp, sagging against a chair. This gave Alyss a good reason to flee Thomas and join her side.

"Alyss dear, will you please escort me to my chambers?" Pauline said breathlessly.

"Of course," she said with relief, putting an arm over the older woman's shoulders.

"Alyss, let a servant do that – we are going to have dinner together, remember?" Thomas interrupted, which Alyss rewarded him for with an annoyed glance.

"No, I think I'd better do it," Alyss maintained, starting towards the door with her mentor under her arm.

"But-"

Fed up, Alyss glanced over her shoulder and hissed out her knock out, never-failed-her-before phrase: "_Lady_ problems, Thomas."

"Oh. _Oh."_ Thomas said, having at least enough decency to flush an interesting shade of red as he realized what she was implying. Assuming this meant they could go, the two women exited the room, and walked in silence to Pauline's chambers. It was only once the door had swung shut behind them that Alyss allowed herself to relax, seating herself heavily on the bed. "Thank you for that, Pauline," she said, "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't."

"Give yourself some credit," her mentor replied, "Did you see his face at the end there? Priceless!" she chuckled for a moment, but it faded quickly. "You weren't at your best today, Alyss."

The younger woman sighed. "I know, I know. It's just… when he's so close to me, it'd be so easy for him to bump me and find out everything. She shook her head. "God only knows what he'd do with me. Torture me for information, or try to use me against Will, or-"

"No - stop that!" Pauline chastised sharply, making Alyss look up in surprise. "Imagining all the things that might happen if he finds out will _not _help you prevent him from finding out in the first place." Seeing her point, Alyss nodded sheepishly. "What you need is a good reason, a legitimate reason to stay away from him, to be very angry with him. Get him to do something rash, run off in tears, and refuse to see him, or stay with him for long at least." She paused briefly, before continuing, "Or, if you're willing to risk it, getting him to come close to striking you would be best of all. That way, even if he does manage to get into the same room as you, you have a good reason to be moving away."

Of course, Alyss' first reaction was shock, but the longer she considered it, the more she realized what a good plan it was. "And if he actually does strike me?" Alyss asked, "Will it hurt the baby?"

Pauline shook her head, "He is unlikely to strike you in the stomach, if he strikes you at all."

They fell into silence then, both of them deep in thought. As she thought, something occurred to Alyss, something that made her stomach turn. "Pauline… won't you have to leave soon? Won't it look suspicious if you stay, now that you have given him information?"

Pauline nodded slowly, "Yes, it would. But I think, with a little work, we might be able to get around it." Her fingers began drumming on her knee. "Thomas is greedy – he must have whatever he desires. So all we need to do is make him want me as his courier."

Alyss looked up, an idea brewing in the back of her mind. "He does love his current courier, but I think I know a way to kill two birds with one stone."

* * *

Alyss took a deep breath. She smoothed her dress. She straightened her hair. And, after plastering the most annoying smile she could muster onto her face, she stepped into the office.

"Good morning, Thomas!" She virtually sang as she strode over to where he sat at his desk writing. She might have found this difficult, if her fate, the fate of her child, and potentially the fate of Araluen had not been on the line.. "How are you this morning?"

He looked up, and she thought she saw him wince slightly in response to the purposefully annoying pitch to her voice. "Good morning, Alyss. I am quite well, and you?"

"Wonderful, just wonderful!" she lied. In fact she had woken up with a quite awful case of morning sickness. She left the words hanging, all a part of her carefully thought out plan.

To break the uncomfortable silence that followed, Thomas asked the exact question that Alyss had been hoping he would. "And the courier, Vivian was it? How is she?"

Hiding a triumphant grin, she walked around until she stood beside him. "Oh, she's much better." She paused, "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that…"

He gestured for her to wait a moment, and she watched impatiently as he finished writing something and signed his name at the bottom, before setting the quill down and turning to her. "I'm all yours."

Ignoring the potential double entendre, Alyss began, "Thomas, Vivian and I used to see each other often, and we became good friends. I was ever so pleased to see her again, as a Lady does get quite lonely without any female company." She stopped to pout slightly, before continuing, "But now she's leaving again, and I'm going to be lonely again."

Thomas looked at her earnestly, taking her hand. _He's swallowing it! _Alyss thought with disbelief and scorn, _The halfwit! _"You're right Alyss. I have neglected my duty as your host and friend by not introducing you to others in this court. Have no fear, when Vivian is gone I will introduce you to all sorts of new friends." He smiled at her. "Actually, I'm quite glad you're taking to the idea of being more social, instead of being cooped up in your room all the time."

Alyss fought back a grimace at the thought of having to socialize with some of the court ladies she had seen. "That's very kind," Alyss lied again, "But I shall dearly miss Vivian."

"Do not worry yourself," He reassured, standing and taking both her hands in his. "You may miss her at first, but soon you will forget all about her, as you get to know all the other ladies."

"But I don't want to forget her!" Alyss complained, "I want her to stay."

He smiled condescendingly, as if she were a small, naïve child. "I know, dear, but there's nothing I can do."

"Nothing you can do?" Alyss repeated disbelievingly, "But you're a king!"

His manner changed as he tried to shift the topic, saying, "And soon you will be my queen." He reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear where it had fallen back into her face. She could only hope he didn't feel her shudder with horror.

"Can't you just… I dunno, confiscate her, or something?" she insisted, drawing them back to the topic.

A flash of annoyance lit Thomas' eyes, and she felt her own flash of fear and anticipation. "Alyss, we've already got a courier – what would Vivian do here?"

"Replace him, Vivian's better." Alyss said definitively.

"And leave the man out of a job for no good reason?"_ Definitely some irritation there now._ Alyss thought.

"There is a good reason: I want her to stay!" Alyss insisted.

He dropped her hands abruptly. "The answer is no. That's final." He turned to reseat himself, but seeing her chance slipping away, Alyss grabbed his shoulder and wrenched him back around.

"Thomas!" she cried, ready to go off on a tantrum-type rant, but was cut off by a single sharp blow across her face. "Get off me, woman!" He yelled as he did so, his voice echoing in the small room. She let out a yelp and staggered to one side, out of range. _And that's that, _Alyss thought as she cowered dramatically against the wall, one hand pressed to the place he had hit her, mouth hanging open.

As soon as the action and words were finished, Alyss could see shock and remorse flooding across Thomas' features, just as she'd hoped they would. "Alyss, I-" But she didn't let him finish, letting out a croaking sob and running from the room, apparently terrified of this man who had struck her.

However, when she reached the safety of her chambers, Alyss was grinning, despite the stinging bruise she could feel forming on her cheek. "That went exceptionally well, I think." She told Pauline as she ambled over to the mirror, looking at her face. "He comes, tries to apologize, I ignore him, he lets you stay, trying to make it up to me." The large, hand-shaped red mark on her cheek couldn't be said to be attractive, but it wouldn't last for too long.

"Excellent." Pauline said, coming over to have a look at the mark herself. "Just there?"

"Just there." Alyss confirmed, prodding it gently with a finger. "Not so bad, really, considering the alternative."

Pauline nodded, before saying, "Alyss, we need to press this advantage. You now have a period of time where it would seem reasonable for you to want to be alone and outside of the castle. Go now, find a way to send information to Halt and Will, and then when you have to go to town with the guards Thomas will no doubt impose upon you, you will already have a way to pass along messages undetected.

Nodding, Alyss started towards her closet to look for a better gown in which to escape the castle. "Who should I go to?" she asked as she pulled out a plain grey woolen dress.

"Find a hunter or merchant, someone who has a good reason to be coming and going." Pualine pulled out a paper and quill, beginning to write as she spoke. "Someone with no reason to love the Scotti, or Thomas. Somone willing to risk the lives to save Araluen." Seeing Alys had dressed, she passed the paper over, saying, "Write everything you want them to know. Set up a way to secretly pass the messages, sending and receiving, and if he wants money give it to him. It's not as if you have a shortage of it right now." Pauline grinned, "Actually, pay him even if he doesn't want it. I like the irony of having Thomas pay for our spying."

Alyss, now finished writing, folded the paper and tucked it into a pocket hidden within the folds of her dress. "Alright. I'm ready." Pauline nodded, and mussed her hair slightly, before nodding her approval.

As she exited, Alyss put on an air of nervous fright and distress, hurrying down corridors while glancing repeatedly over her shoulder. She kept her pace at just below a jog, keeping her steps as soft as possible. She continued this until she had exited the castle, and was far enough away to not be recognizable at a glance. Then, she broke into a run, pulling the paper out of her pocket and clenching it tightly in her hand.

It didn't take long to find the kind of person she was looking for – it was market day, after all. However, the markets looked much different than when Alyss had last been in Redmont before the Scotti arrived. There was not the lively chatter of buyers and sellers bartering, nor the performers in the streets with hats out for coins. No bright colors drew attention to stands, and no children ran through a crowd, tripping up the adults. Now, just a sickly sounding murmur was settled over the market, with people hurrying through the streets with their heads down, buying what they needed and leaving. Colors that might once have been bright were now faded and torn, too expensive for their now destitute owners. All the children were bundled inside, none of them allowed outdoors anymore. And every dozen meters or so stood a Scotti guard, with their curved swords on their belts, watching over the proceeding with a cold gaze. Even so, however, a merchant is never hard to find of market day, and there was a certain merchant who was famous for being the best in Araluen, who attended almost every market day in the town outside Castle Araluen. His name was Chapman, and though she was sure that it was markedly less grand than it had been before, his stall was still easy to pick out from the rest, with his name scrawled in scrolling letters across the front of the stand, and a few bright colors still hanging about.

Alyss also knew that Chapman was famous, or perhaps infamous, for having a network of 'assistants' throughout the country, watching the stands of competitors, seeing when new products appeared, and then finding out where they came from. If anyone would be able to get messages to the rangers without looking out of the ordinary, it would be him. So Alyss, slowing back to a walk, caught her breath, and walked over to the stand.

"Hello, miss," said Chapman as she approached, "How can I help you today?" Chapman was a large fellow, whose clothes, though a little run down at the moment, spoke of a great wealth in the past. His ruddy cheeks still had a good rounding to them, and he didn't look as if he was in danger of becoming emaciated any time soon, unlike many other sellers at the market.

Alyss, still panting slightly, looked around. There was a guard a few meters off, but if he could read lips he would know exactly what they said. "Is there any place else we can talk? Somewhere a little more…" she threw a pointed glance at the guard. "Private?"

Chapman's eyes flicked from her, to the guard, and back to her, settling on the red mark on her cheek. "Did one of them…?" he asked, looking to the guard again, a look of outrage spreading across his features.

"No no!" she hurried to say, deciding that perhaps this man wasn't so immoral as his reputation might make him sound. "That's not what – look, is there any where we can talk, or should I be on my way?"

Chapman considered her for a long moment, before saying to a man a little ways off, "Pip, hold down the fort will you? I need to talk with this nice lady." Pip nodded, standing and walking over to take Chapman's place as the big man started off, gesturing for Alyss to follow. She did, making careful note of their route, just in case.

'Someplace' turned out to be a large tent, designed to house several people inside. As they entered, Alyss realized that this was, in fact, not even where the people were staying – this was where their products were being stored. Boxes upon boxes of things were piled everywhere, creating a maze. They wound through it for a while, before coming to a spot where there were only two long boxes sat one across from the other, like a pair of benches. "Please, sit." Chapman said, taking his own seat heavily. "Now. What is it we need to talk about."

Alyss looked at Chapman. She took in everything about him and decided if she really could trust this man, what his motivations might be to help her, and what they might be to turn her in. What his goals were, what his desires were. All of this in a couple a seconds, before she unclenched her fist about the paper and handed it to him. "I need you to deliver this for me."

He took it and looked it over with moderate interest. "That's quite a lot of information for a lady like you to have." He said quietly, looking over at her with renewed interest. "Who are you?"

Alyss grimaced. "Well, Thomas seems to believe I am his betrothed, though I like to think otherwise." She pointed to the paper, "I need that to be sent to my husband."

"What's he gonna do with it? Gather an army?" Chapman scoffed, looking ready to toss the paper to the ground.

"Yes." Alyss replied calmly, making him pause. "My husband's name is Will Treaty."

Chapman shook his head. "Dead. With the rest of them."

"Though I thank you for putting it so gently," Alyss replied, "I would like to disagree. All the information you see there is from the personal correspondences between Thomas and his associates, and amongst those papers I have found that they are currently preparing for an attack led by the Rangers. Will and the others are very much alive." Seeing the segue, she took it. "But they won't be for much longer if you don't help me."

Chapman examined her closely for a moment. "And why should I believe that you want my help, that you aren't a spy for the Scotti, and that you aren't forging information that will kill off the last of our resistance, assuming they do exist?"

"I don't know. I can't say anything to convince you, and I don't have anything to show you, other than what you've already seen." Alyss shrugged, holding out her hand. "If you don't want to do it, I understand. I'll find someone else to give my money to."

At the mention of money, she saw him perk up slightly. "Oy, wait. You didn't say anything about money before."

She shrugged again, "I didn't want to bring it up right away, seemed a cheap way to get you to do something."

The man looked at her thoughtfully. "Alright. I believe you." He stood, holding out a hand. "You've got yourself a deal, miss…"

"Alyss." She supplied, and he nodded.

"Miss Alyss. I suppose you'll be wanting me to get any replies back to you?"

"I would appreciate it, yes." She frowned. "But it'll be tricky. I wasn't lying when I said Thomas likes to think me his fiancé, and I will be watched carefully."

"Did he give you that?" He said, gesturing to her cheek.

Alyss nodded. "Yes. Perhaps now you see why getting caught might be hazardous. So, we need a plan, a way to give notes back and forth."

Chapman pondered this for a moment, before saying, "Where is your money coming from, Miss Alyss?"

She grinned wickedly. "From Thomas."

Chapman laughed a boisterous, jolly laugh. "Well isn't that ironic? Why don't you come on down to the stall again, and we can look for something you might like to buy on a regular basis, and is expensive enough to be paid for in pretty little envelopes of more than just money."

Seeing his idea, Alyss nodded. "Why don't we do just that?"

* * *

**Well, there you go folks! Alyss being her usual devious self. Have no fear, I actually do have a plan for her beyond just sneaking messages about. Reviews are awesome, but if you've gotten this far you know that already.**


	24. Chapter 23: The Cave

**A/N: Okay, a little faster this time methinks, but still not quick enough. It would have been faster, except I've been having some, ah, technical difficulties. Hopefully they will be resolved by the end of the week, so fingers crossed! **

** Ranger Robin: Hopefully this was fast enough, I'm not a huge fan of coffee XD**

** Farmers Daughter: I'm thinking that there will be at least three or four more sets of chapters (a set including Kathryn Sarah and Alyss), but at some point at least two of these storylines are going to collide, so it will be shorter. **

** Tessi: Glad you think so, I always get a little nervous with cannon characters... **

** Anon: Thanks! Always happy to see someone willing to slog through all 100,000 words of my story!**

Getting back into the camp was a hell of a lot harder than getting out had been. Leaving, I could have made up some odd reason I had to go out into the woods to do something, but getting in, I had no reason, not to mention that I was supposed to be close to death in the back of the medicine tent. That is, if Malin had been able to keep the act going.

So. That left no option other than to sneak in. And mind you, I'm pretty good at sneaking in now, that being what Rangers do and all that. But it's a lot harder when you A) do not have a cloak and B) have a freaking guitar slung over your shoulder. So, I did a lot less sneaking and a lot more skittering through shadows when people weren't looking, and trying to keep the hollow thuds of my guitar to a minimum. I had to fight not to sigh with relief when I finally made it to the medicine tent, and managed to wriggle myself and my/Malin's guitar under the edge of the fabric.

I started getting up, before I felt a hard boot plant it's self at the base of my neck, effectively pinning me. "Who are you?" the voice asked coldly, and I let out a curse.

"Dammit Malin it's me!" I rolled over as he suddenly released the pressure on me, slapping his leg away. "Damn Malin, you scared me half to death!"

"Sorry!" He whispered-exclaimed, offering me a hand, which I gratefully took. "I didn't recognize you - I had decided you must be dead!" He pulled me to my feet.

"It took a bit longer than expected to get back here, bit of a problem with directions." I replied, looking around the room. It looked just about the same as when I'd left it. "What news?"

He shrugged, glancing about. "If you mean how are you doing, you're still gravely ill. But I think that, over night, you might just have a miracle recovery." He looked at me seriously, "But you're going to need to be weak, as you have hardly eaten anything at all. In bed for at least three more days."

"Oh don't mind if I do." I said, plopping myself onto the bed that lay in the middle of the room. "Three days of napping sounds alright to me."

"Napping, yes." Malin said with a grin, sitting beside me. "Napping and… teaching me to play?" He said, gesturing to the guitar.

I nodded. "Not right now though. I just sprinted through most of camp with it on my back, walked for a couple weeks, and I'm just about ready to slip into a coma, so if you don't mind…" I pulled my boots of with relief for the first time in days, and slung my legs up onto the bed.

Malin stood, about ready to leave. "Just go along with whatever I tell you, and when in doubt, just start coughing. Oh, and, just so you know, one of the runners has been killed in a raid, so you may be promoted soon."

Promoted? Oh that's fabulous. As he slipped out of my room and I started worming my way under the covers, I tried to make a list of the pros and cons. It looked a little something like this:

Pros:

Easier access to information, maybe a better spot in the tent?

Cons:

More likelihood of messing up and incurring wrath, more likely to get lost, more likely to be on the receiving end of rage at a message received, less protection from Evin, etc. etc.

It was not an encouraging list. But, I suppose that life as a spy is never an easy thing, in these circumstances least of all. Hadn't I been the one looking for adventure, bored with my life? I smiled grimly at the thought, shutting my eyes against the faint moonlight from outside. Well, I certainly wasn't bored now. At this point, I think that boredom had it's own special place on my bucket list.

"He's still weak, so don't wake him up if he's sleeping."

Malin's voice said the words calmly and smoothly, as if he'd been practicing the line to the point where it could come off without a hitch. I kept my eyes closed as I heard the cloth door rustle as two pairs of boots walked in. "Wow – he looks a lot better than you said he did!" That was Evin, sounding relieved.

"As I said, he's made a miraculous recovery. I'm not sure what it was that cured him, but I've been keeping track of what I tried. If anyone else gets it, the recovery should come much quicker." I decided that Malin was just a really good liar, as he couldn't have practiced every possible answer, and that line had sounded just as good as the other.

Trying to look as pitiful as I could, I cracked my eyes open a tad, before scrunching them shut. I heard a quick intake of breath, then a hissed, "He's awake!" from Evin. I opened my eyes a little more, blinked a couple times, then swiveled my eyes over until I could see Evin's face. He had dark bags under his eyes, as if he had gotten little sleep lately.

"Hey Evin." I greeted, making my voice a croak. "Long time no see."

"Hey Fletch." He said softly, as if afraid his sound waves might break me. "How are ya little man?"

I shrugged as best I could lying down. "Alright, I guess. Better, certainly. How're you?"

"Alright, I guess." He echoed, smiling.

Without warning, he was wrenched out of my view, with another, broader face filling it's place. "Fletcher!" Bry's voice boomed even when he was trying to be quiet, and I saw Evin wince out of the corner of my vision. However, I knew he meant well, and, in reality, it didn't hurt any more than usual, so I just smiled tiredly and said, "Hey Bry."

"You are well again!" He pointed out, looking me over. "Soon you shall be up and running again."

_I sound like a car,_ I thought, but obviously this was not what he had meant. So instead, I tilted my head over to see Evin, and said, "Is it true, what Malin told me this morning?"

Evin nodded. "I think so. Hektor was shot a few days ago – you're the only one to replace him."

"And who's covering for him now?" I asked, confused.

Evin looked away. "I am. It was only fair."

"Fair?!" I choked, breaking into a coughing fit as I saw the chance. "How is it fair for you to be doing twice the work?"

"My fault you fell." He muttered, kicking at the ground.

Bry shrugged. "It is no use, little Fletcher. I also have tried to tell him he is wrong, but he will not listen."

Evin shrugged, "You're just trying to cheer me up, I can tell."

I rolled my eyes. "Look, Evin-"

"Stop." Evin said, "Please. It's my fault, let me take responsibility."

I glared at him, and he shut up. "That was not what I was going to say. If you want to take responsibility for something that's not your fault, be my guest." I softened my voice slightly, as he remained silent "What I was going to ask was what else had happened while I was out?"

A brief run down ensued, with input from both Evin and Bry. Small skirmishes had begun with enemies other than rangers, small rebellions of the Araluen people had formed, only to be smacked back down again by the Scotti. The attacks on the supply trains were now more frequent, so our meals would be getting better. Bry's brother had been promoted, much to his delight and Bry's joking dismay. And, last but not least, something strange seemed to be going on on the outskirts of the camp.

"People say they see shadows," Bry said mysteriously, "Figures flitting along the edges of their vision."

_Rangers?_ I thought hopefully, but said nothing. Perhaps I said nothing for a little too long, for Malin suddenly jumped in with, "He's tired, I think you should go." Not unkind, but still firm.

"Yes. Of course." Evin said, standing from the crouch he had assumed to look at me on level. "Feel better, Fletch." He reached over to ruffle my hair, just as he'd done before. _Not that much has changed,_ I thought.

"Bye Evin, bye Bry." I said, only smirking a little bit at the way that 'Bye Bry" sounded. Then, it was just me and Malin.

"Not bad," Malin said, "You looked pretty pathetic."

"I try," I replied, smiling and propping myself up on my elbows. "So, now what?"

He shrugged. "You stay here for awhile, I guess. I have to attend to other patients as well, but whenever I can I'll come back here to keep you company."

I thanked him, and he started to exit the room. "Wait!" I called after him, and he paused, looking back over his shoulder. "Do you still want to learn guitar?" I asked.

He grinned. "You think I'd let you forget your promise?" Without another word, he exited, leaving me alone.

Although I'd only be out of commision for a few days in reality, I still hadn't been running for a good week or two by the time I returned to work. I did have a good alibi for why I could hardly run a mile without gasping for air, but even so, it was a tad disappointing. I'd worked so hard to be a great runner, only to have it all smashed. But, all in the name of Araluen, I suppose.

Evin and Bry were waiting for me by the mess tent when I finished my first day as an official runner, and I jogged up to them at a moderate pace, fighting to keep my breathing steady. "Hey guys."

"How are you feeling, Fletch?" Evin asked, clapping me on the shoulder.

"Fine," I said with a shrug, "I'm going back to see Malin again tonight, make sure nothing's the matter."

Bry nodded solemnly. "A relapse could prove fatal." See? Random spurts of wisdom from Bry, out of nowhere. The BFG, that was Bry.

Suddenly, a man who had been coming out of the mess tent staggered and fell beside us, breath coming hard and fast. "Hey, are you alright?" Evin asked in Scotti, kneeling beside the man.

"Veli?" Bry asked, concern lacing his voice. I realized with a jolt that this was indeed Bry's brother. "Veli what is the matter?"

"I don't... I don't know." He panted, one hand pressed to his chest, looking around dazedly. "I feel... it's so hot Bry... and the worlds... spinning..." The arm that had been propping him up collapsed, and he lay, passed out on the ground, unmoving.

"We need a doctor!" Evin yelled, before hurriedly instructing Bry on how to arrange his behemoth of a brother to keep his airways clear. I watched as a warrior sprinted off at full speed towards the medical tent.

"Fletcher," Bry said without looking up from his work, "Do you think this could be the same illness that you had?"

"Um, I dunno. Could be." I said, thinking quickly, "I don't remember that much."

Evin nodded, "It seems that, for all his attempts to contain it, the doctor could not." He looked up at me, "But at least he knows the cure for it now."

I gulped. _Great. Now my disease is having a placebo__ effect on people. _Either that or my disease was going to get pinned onto whatever disease this actually was. Not good.

To make matters worse, as I watched a second man fell to his knees a little ways off, and another even further down the line. They were dropping like flies - what kind of disease spreads like that? The only one I could think of was the plague, and I was really, _really _hoping for just about anything other than that. I raced over to the nearest man, quickly taking his pulse. His heart was weak, but still going at it furiously, as if he had just run a mile with half his normal blood supply. His eyes, just before they rolled back into his head, were dilated hugely, and wide with fear. I was just barely able to keep him from cracking his head on the ground, before standing up and running for the medic myself.

Malin was already on his way, and his face was grim. "What is it?" He asked me as I screeched to a halt and started walking back towards the dining tent with him.

"No idea." I replied, "Though Evin seems to think it's what I had."

Malin shot me a look, and I shrugged slightly. "Symptoms?"

"Um, dizziness, dilated pupils, fever, weak and racing heart..." I said, trying to remember everything.

"Sounds like a bad fever." He looked relieved. I hated to take that away from him.

"But Malin," I warned, "It struck three men in the same couple of instants. It's not your normal fever."

He came to Veli and knelt, going through much the same motions I did. Then, he gazed out over the landscape, where several other men lay unconscious. "Get them to the medical bay!" He yelled over the murmur of concerned voices. "As quick as you can!" As everyone else rushed to do as he said, Malin snatched my arm, not allowing me to leave. "Get water," he instructed, "They'll need it." I nodded, running into the mess tent to grab a couple of buckets. There wasn't enough kept on tap in the place, as most men drank some form of ale, so I was going to have to get some from the larger water containers. These were filled by men each morning, great big troughs of water that everyone was free to use. It might not be the cleanest of things, but at least it was convenient, and it would be fast.

I ran with the empty buckets, ignoring how they smacked painfully against my legs, and scooped up as much water as they could hold. Hefting them was harder this now, but I was able, however unsteadily.

Without warning, a great force seemed to reach out and snatch the bucket in my right hand out of my grasp. I let out a yelp, and watched as the water spilled out onto the sun-baked earth. I whipped around to yell at whoever had done it, only to find open air. I looked back at the bucket, and suppressed a cry of shock as I saw a great big crossbow bolt sticking out of it. I glanced over my shoulder again, out into the space beyond the camp, where anyone could be hiding, waiting for the right moment to try their shot again. I backed up facing outwards, watching warily for motion as I grabbed the bucket back, before skittering behind the relative safety of a tent.

It was definitely a crossbow bolt - much thicker and heavier than an arrow. And, judging by it's vaguely purple tinging, I figured it was Genovesian. But wait - what? There was a piece of paper tied to the bolt, very carefully and purposefully. Glancing around, I untied the note, and unfolded it, holding it close to my body to hide it from passerby's.

_Not from there. _It read, _Only from the river._

I looked around, then peered out past the tent again. Still, I could see no one. For a moment, I just sat, thinking, before making my decision and kicking the remaining bucket over, while wrenching the bolt from the hide of the first, where it luckily had not-quite made a hole. Then, I jogged the extra fifty meters or so to the river, and filled them up there. If Sarah and Will had found the Genovesians, they'd be on my side. How they knew it was me, I have no idea. But that note was meant for me, obviously, and I could think of no other reason why it should be.

"What took you so long?" Malin asked as he rushed past me to tend to a patient. They were looking even worse than before, and Malin looked as if he wasn't holding out much hope, though he did of course try to hide it from the patients. "I've got three more already."

"Sorry," I replied, following him with one bucket while leaving the other by the door. "I was... um... delayed." _Well said, Gandalf the Grey,_ I thought sarcastically, rolling my eyes at my own stupidity. Luckily, those particular books wouldn't be coming out for another hundred years at least. Even so, I was disappointed at my own lack of creativity.

"Well, you're here now." He turned away to bark something at a nurse-ish person in a language I didn't recognise - maybe Polish? - before turning and yelling in Scotti, "We're going to need to get some food for all these people!" to no one in particular, perhaps just hoping that _somebody _would do it, not caring who.

"I tried!" Called a young woman across the tent over the noise, "They said they haven't anything to give - they're turning everyone away, rationing!"

"What do you mean nothing to give?!" Though he tried to veil it, Malin sounded on the brink of hysteria, "A supply train came in yesterday!"

"Was_ supposed _to come in yesterday," the woman corrected, "It never arrived. Neither did last week's."

My heart skipped a beat. The supply train... the supply train that I'd told the rangers about! With about 90% certainty, if the train had been stopped long enough to make the cooks turn people away, it was the Rangers. If we were lucky, this whole affair might end with no battles at all - keep the bloodshed to a minimum, and instead force them to collapse from the inside out. Although, to be fair, my stomach had a very different opinion about the matter, and was complaining quite loudly about it.

"Well tell them," Malin snarled, "That if they don't bring food _now,_ they may not have any men left to ration to!" The girl hastened to do as he said, leaving another nurse to pick up where she'd left off. "Fletcher, you should go," He said to me in a slightly less annoyed voice, "If you get sick again now, you aren't likely to recover."

I bit my lip, thinking that I couldn't just leave him to get sick as well. Whatever this was, it was in the water, and I wasn't going to let him get sick if I could prevent it. "Alright, I'll go. But Malin," He looked up, perhaps hearing something in my voice, "If you... if you need any more water, you call for me, alright? No one else."

He looked into my eyes, a question there. I just shook my head slightly, and glanced around at the chaos of the tent. "Alright. I will."

"Thanks." Then, after a quick nod of farewell, I exited the tent.

Outside was only a little less hectic than in. Down the aisle of tents, I could see a large group of men complaining loudly about how hungry they were, and how they were none too pleased with the rationing. Closer by, I watched as a man suddenly dropped to one knee, a hand pressed to his forehead. Whatever those Genovesians had used, it was acting fast, and effectively. The hungry men would likely be thirsty too, and when their ale ran out, all that would be conveniently left would be in that water trough.

I hurried to my tent, needing a moment to compose myself. To my relief, it was empty, and I hurried to my mat and lied down, wanting some time to just think. But, as I laid my head down on the rolled cloth that passed for my pillow, I heard a strange crackling noise right by my ear. I sat back up and looked down at the pillow in confusion. There, just barely peeking out from beneath it, were two pieces of parchment. I snatched them up, examining them. Yup, there was no doubt - it was the same material as the note from before. _How the hell did they get in here? _I wondered as I unfolded the first sheet and smoothed it.

_The disease which appears to be spreading is actually a poison called atropine. It is being spread through the water systems, so if you enjoy living I suggest staying away from those. Your information has been taken and used, as you have no doubt noticed. However, the circumstances of your arrival and departure do not cast you in a good light. Someone will be here to meet you in a week's time. I recommend attending the meeting at all costs. This would be a most opportune time to send information as well, as we may not be able to do further investigation of this nature. _

_The packet included is the antidote to the poison. Use sparingly, as there is not much._

And that was it. No signature, no personal words at all, just business. Very Genovesian-esque. And honestly, pretty scary. Knowing that someone who wrote with that kind of style did not make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, no sir. But, when it came right down to it, he had saved my life, and given me the opportunity to save my friends, if need be.

Speaking of which, I needed to find some way of letting my friends know not to drink that water. I started up, then stopped, frozen in place by a moral dilemma. If I told my friends not to drink that water, they would become either suspicious of me, or think I was a genius and tell all the rest of camp, defeating the purpose of the poison entirely. But if I didn't tell, my friends and dozens, possibly even hundreds of others would die, and fast. I had the power to save these men's lives. But if I did, I would likely doom Araluen to rule under the cruel leadership of the Scotti. Which was worse - hundreds of years of cruel dominion, or hundreds of deaths of the cruel leaders-to-be? My stomach twisted with nausea at the thought of having to choose, and so I sat back down, clutching my now shaking hands to my chest. _Holy shit,_ I thought, _This is not what I signed up for._

For a long time, a very long time, I just sat there, staring blankly at the wall, my mind whirling at about a thousand miles an hour, my heart threatening to beat itself right out of my chest. Finally, I came to a decision, one I wasn't positive was the right one, and stood, trying not to look too upset as I exited the tent and headed back to the medical bay.

"Malin," I said over the clamor inside as I entered, "We need to talk."

"Can it wait?" He asked tersely, barely looking up, "In case you hadn't noticed, I've got a few patients to attend to and-"

I grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, forcing him to look me in the eye. "Malin. We. Need. To. Talk. _Now."_

He glared at me and looked around at the rest of the pavillion, before sighing and walking to the back room of the tent, which I noticed he had still kept empty despite the crowding conditions in the main area. "What?!" He hissed, looking around. "This better be pretty damn good."

"It is." I said, reaching inside my shirt. "Here."

He took the envelope, looking at it. "What is it?"

"A cure to what you're trying to fight." His eyes shot up to mine in disbelief, and I nodded. "Don't use it until they're on the very edge of death - the whole point is to weaken them. And use as little as possible - there isn't a whole lot."

His eyes grew wide. "You did this?"

I shook my head. "A... I guess you could say a friend. But Malin, listen to me. You have to tell me when you're about to run out, you _have _to. Otherwise, a whole lot of people are going to die."

He gazed at me thoughtfully. "They're our enemy, and yet you feel the need to save their lives."

I shrugged. "You're their doctor - I suppose in the end it's your call."

I could see the same dilemma I had faced earlier flick across his face, watched as he bit his lip and ran a single finger along the edge of the envelope. "Alright," he said, before slipping it into a pocket, and exiting.

_Alright? _I thought, _Alright what? Alright you'll save them, alright it's your call, alright I'm friends with killers?_ But I couldn't exactly run up and ask him - that'd give away more than I'd like. So, I decided to just let it go - I had made my choice, and Malin would make his. _On _our _head be it this time, Malin._

And oh Lord did I hope our heads weren't about to be crushed.


	25. Chapter 24: This is War

**A/N: I'm not even going to do the whole apology thing again, it's been done so many times in one fic. I am, however, going to post this warning now: Summer is coming. And with summer comes long, **_**long**_** hiatuses. As in, Europe-for-three-weeks-followed-by-two-weeks-of-ca mp-without-internet kind of long. Now, I think it's likely I will be writing in this time period, but I'll have to type it up, and that is a major drag. So, I'm not gonna lie, it'll probably be a while. So I am very sorry, and I hope you won't give up on my story. For all you guests, it may be easier for you to get an account and follow it, so that you'll get a snazzy little email when I update. But if not, check back mid August, and I might have an update for you then. **

**My timeline is getting a little screwy, so sorry for confusion. If things don't seem to make sense timewise (i.e. two things are happening with the same characters at the same time) just ignore it and pretend like it makes sense, okay?**

**Ranger Robin: I'm sorry, but I have finals, and I had a piano testing, and all sorts of things! And also, yes, coffee is gross. The whole bit about not killing off lots of people is a Doctor Who thing, actually, so if you want to see all my rationale for that you can watch... um... all of them. Yeah, kinda an ongoing thing. Any ways, sorry if you didn't like that, but I can't really change it, it's just one of those things.**

**Anon: Oh yes, Halt has lots and lots of wrath. I'm glad you're enjoying, stick with me over the summer!**

**Farmer'sDaughter: Hey, was that you who got an account? Yeah, Malin and Justin are favorites of mine too, I thought about excluding them in this version, and then I was like "Um no I think not".**

**Tessi: Agh, I'm sorry, I'm trying! No worries, Halt's back, this chapter! And, like I said to Anon, lots of wrath XD. Have no fear, Malin has a good voice, if a heavily accented one.**

A FEW WEEKS EARLIER.

Sarah stared bewilderedly down at the very complicated map that flopped about to the rhythm of Correr's stride. With every line indicating a different pathway the Rangers were taking to avoid the suspicion of the Scotti, crossing over each other and doubling back randomly, it was difficult for her to follow any single pathway, especially while posting without her hands on the back of a horse. "Um... I think that we should get there first?" She said, tracing the route again with her eyes, "And, ah, the rest of them should get there within a week. Ish."

Halt halfway turned around in the saddle. "Thank you for such a definitive and concrete answer."

Sarah stuck out her tongue, before turning back to her map. "Well, it's not like you guys made this very easy to understand. Jeeze, did you have to use e_very _road, shortcut, and trail in Araluen, or was it just to make it more fun?"

Halt was about to say something in response, when Will abruptly held up a hand, signaling silence. They all halted their horses immediately, the three steeds pausing in the middle of steps. Then, just as silently, he pointed towards the trees. There, only a few meters away, they could see the stirrings of motion through the trees, before it too, halted. Tentatively, Will let out a series of whistles that could be mistaken for a bird if one wasn't familiar with the calls of the area. After a moment, a response came, almost the same but not quite, just enough of a deviation to be sure it wasn't being copied. Relieved, the three started forward again, and the motion on the other side of the trees resumed as well.

"Well, fancy seeing you here!" Came Horace's voice out of the trees.

"Horace!" Will exclaimed, kicking Tug into a quick trot to pull up next to Kicker and the several other warriors with him. "You're early!"

"We were in a hurry," Horace replied, "Scotti warriors right on our tails for a while there - I figured you wouldn't mind a bit of an early meet up."

"Scotti warriors?" Halt asked sharply, "Are you sure you lost them?"

Horace's countenance turned grave, "Seeing as we had to leave them bloody in the dust along with several of our own, I'm fairly sure."

As they began to move again, they pulled out around a corner, and a large pinnacle of stone came into view. Sarah started, looking down at the map again with surprise. "Um, guys? I think I miscalculated... That's it. The landmark that Kathryn said to look for marking their supply route... that's it."

"That's it?" Halt asked, looking back at her, "Are you sure?"

"Ahm... I'd say yes, but..." She shrugged, "I'm not."

"It' doesn't look too vulnerable... why would she say that?" Will asked, scanning the area.

Sarah looked to Halt, hoping for an answer. Instead, she got a completely apathetic look that made he think that maybe he didn't have one. _And then even King Arthur started to wonder..._She said in her mind, thinking of the infamous episode of Sherlock, in which the detective himself was made out to be a fake by his arch enemy, Moriarty, by planting the idea in the minds of his allies. While the Scotti clearly weren't trying to make Kathryn look like a traitor, as they (hopefully) didn't even know she was a Ranger, the general idea was the same. Even Halt was beginning to wonder...

Feeling a bit distraught, Sarah nudged Correr into a faster pace, heading for the rock spire she had seen earlier. "But Farley said her info was good..." Sarah said to no one in particular. Suddenly, Correr jerked to a halt, unbidden. "Oi!" Sarah commented, giving him a squeeze with her knees, but he wouldn't budge. "What's the matter?" She asked, looking at the spire of rock with confusion, "Scared of a little rock?" She dismounted, taking Correr's reigns in her hand. "C'mon, we've gotta take a look." Correr seemed to shake his head, and she saw him lock his knees. "Correr!" she hissed, exasperated, before starting forward on her own.

It took her only a matter of seconds to figure out why Correr had stopped. Shielded from her view by thick undergrowth and the heavy drooping foliage of the trees was a steep drop off into a deep ravine. And, insistent on continuing forward, she walked straight off the edge. She let out a little shriek as her foot plunged past where the ground should have been, and frantically twisted about, grabbing for anything. All she came across was the weakly rooted undergrowth, but with nothing else to grab she had to settle. She came to a stop with only her forearms on solid ground, and the rest of her body dangling awkwardly over the edge. Not daring to look down, but still thoroughly terrified, she scrabbled with her feet for any kind of foothold, but found nothing, not even a wall. Desperately, she tried to pull herself up with the plants, but not only was her position the one with the least leverage imaginable, but she could feel the plants' roots start pulling out, and she quickly froze. "Help!" She yelled, feeling the soil slowly loosening about her handholds. "Please, somebody!"

She felt something warm press against the back of her hands and, terrified, she let go with one hand to desperately grab at the object. She found a strap and locked her fingers around it, swinging her other hand to grab it as well. As soon as she had done so, she felt herself start to be dragged back up onto solid land. Gasping and panting, she started to help as soon as she could, before flopping to the ground when she had reached safety.

"Sarah!" She felt concerned hands pull her into a sitting position, "Sarah are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm -gasp- I'm fine - gasp- I think." she managed to get out, head still buzzing with adrenaline, "Who - gasp- who pulled-"

"Correr," Halt answered, pointing to the horse who stood nearby, looking both concerned and proud at the same time. "You're lucky he was right there, or those plants wouldn't have held for long enough."

Sarah took her to her feet shakily, with several hands to help her up. "Okay, so you were right," she said to Correr, who she could have sworn rolled his eyes as if to say, _'Ya think_?' "Thanks." The horse clopped over, butting her in the side with his head affectionately. She wrapped her arms around his muzzle and pulled him close. "You could've fallen - that was really brave."

'_Just doin' my job.' _He replied, before gently removing his head from her grasp. She gave him one last pat, before turning back to her companions.

"But, some good did come of this." The others gave her a look, "Well, we figured out what Kathryn was talking about - there's your vulnerable but well hidden route. I was literally right on top of it, and I didn't see it until it was almost too late." She peered at her map, and then at the Ranger map. "And so well hidden you lot haven't noticed it either. Great big canyon on the border of Picta, and you never even noticed!"

"Which means..." Will trailed off as he walked to the edge of where he could see and parted the branches to peer out, "They're right there." His voice held a tinge of dread as he said the words, stepping back.

"Did anyone see us?" Horace asked, hand already reaching for his sword.

"A couple of people." Will replied, peering out again more cautiously. "But... it looks like they're leaving. Maybe they thought it was a traveler or something."

The group let out a collective breath they hadn't realized they were holding. "Alright," Halt said, "Then let's get set up. Those woods over there are just as dense as the ones hiding the gorge, so we should be able to hide fairly effectively in there."

Sarah waited until everyone else had started moving before she mounted her own horse. "Next time, I'll let you do the walking." She said to Correr, who tossed his head good naturedly in reply.

_'You'd better'_

* * *

"So." Justin said idly as they crouched hidden behind a rock. "Here we are."

"Here we are." Sarah agreed, finally having caught her breath. Climbing down the sheer rock face of the gorge had been one of the most nerve racking things she had done in her life, and she was still on a knife's edge. "Though I'm not going to lie, Justin, I wish I was still up there."

He chuckled, "No you don't."

"Um, yeah I do." Sarah replied, giving him a look.

"Um, no you don't" Justin mimicked, earning him another glare. "You'd miss out on all the fun."

"Fun?" Sarah asked, "You call shooting at people fun?"

"No!" Justin replied quickly, "Shooting at people is definitely not fun! But stopping the enemy in their tracks, and saving Araluen - yeah, kinda fun."

"Yeah, well. I wish I could be saving Araluen _from up there,_" she amended, making Justin laugh quietly.

"You're fine." He ducked his head quickly around the rock, before darting back behind it.

"I beg to differ!" Sarah replied, "I almost fell like three times!"

Justin shrugged, "But you didn't fall, therefore you are fine."

"No!" Sarah insisted, briefly sticking out her tongue as Justin warned her to be quieter. "Okay, being 'fine' is not equivalent to being scared out of your mind but physically unharmed."

"Is in my book."

"Yeah, well your book needs a better editor."

A high bird call that wasn't a bird call rang through the canyon, echoing back several times as the sound waves bounced off the curving rock faces. The pair tensed, before quickly shrugging off their bows and silently nocking an arrow onto their strings. Then, as one, they peered around opposite edges of the boulder, cloaks allowing them to blend into the background.

There, in the distance, they could see the smudge far down the gorge that was presumably the latest train of supplies. Sarah squinted, "Looks kinda tiny doesn't it?" She commented softly, and Justin nodded.

"Yeah. Kinda worries me." Justin put his fingers to his lips and let out a different bird call, one that had been designated as a "What the hell?" signal. After a short pause, they got back the standard, "Everything's fine" call, and were left there. "Well, I guess that's good?" Justin said, looking back towards the puff. "But why... Oh."

"What?"

"Well..." Justin looked towards Sarah, "That's not... it's not the supply train we're seeing - we're seeing it's dust. It's still too far away to see."

"Which means..." Sarah trailed off, seeing where this was going. "Which means it's gotta be pretty big to make that big of a dust cloud."

Justin nodded. "Way bigger than expected." He let a hiss out through his teeth. "This could get interesting."

Time seemed to tick by with ever greater slowness as the supply train trudged towards their trap-possibly-turned-suicide-mission. Each second turned to an epoch as Sarah became tenser and tenser, whole body strung out with nervous anticipation. It was midday by the time the actual supply train itself was in view, and by the time they could almost make out individuals, it was well into the afternoon, gaining on sunset.

"Ready?" Justin asked, speaking for the first time since his last comment.

"As I'll ever be." Sarah replied, re-nocking the arrow she had allowed to droop loosely in her fingers. "We're the first ones, right?"

"Yup." Justin replied. "Supposedly, we just draw the enemy fire and then let the others do their work, but I get the feeling it's gonna be a bit more than that."

Sarah nodded in agreement, shifting slightly. She could make out individuals easily now, and they couldn't be more than a football field away. "Almost ready, don't you think?"

"Yup."

"Alright. Then on the count of three. One. Two." She took a deep breath, steadying her hand, before saying, "Three."

Together, the pair of them stood and fired. Then again, and again. By the time the first arrows struck home, there were several more on their way. By the time there was return fire, Sarah and Justin had both ducked back behind their rock, and the other Rangers had begun their assault.

"Well, that was exciting!" Sarah commented breathlessly, watching as a brief hail of arrows fell about their hiding spot, before being drawn elsewhere, the cries of battle rising over her words.

"And the fun's just starting," Justin agreed, slinging his bow over his shoulder to pull out his knives. "I get the feeling we'll be needing these."

Sarah nodded her agreement, copying the action. "How many do you think, couple hundred?"

"At least." Justin agreed, peering around. "Where did they get all those people?" Sarah just shook her head in response, unsure what to say.

"Sarah! Justin!" Called Will, and the pair of them listened intently over the sound of battle, "Incoming!"

They looked at each other, nodded in acknowledgement, then together stood, turning towards where they knew their enemies would be waiting. They stepped towards the oncoming rush of people, an odd assortment of experienced warriors and panicked civilians turned supply cart drivers. The first to meet them, of course, were the warriors. Sarah clashed with a swordsman, catching his overhead slice between her knives and swinging it down and around, opening up his torso for a strike. She lunged forward, lancing through his chest with her saxe. As his eyes glazed and he fell aside, Sarah felt the adrenaline burning through her veins like a wildfire, destroying any weariness she might have acquired throughout the day. As the next warrior stepped up, she found herself thanking whatever powers might be that she had been able to practice so much with Horace.

She kept going, slicing and cutting without pause, until she came to her third or fourth opponent. She knocked aside a swordsman whom she had been previously engaged with, before stopping dead in her tracks. The person she had been about to cut down was a boy, no more than ten, who was clumsily holding a makeshift club between hands that looked work worn. His clothes were tattered, his face bruised, and she could see where the edge of a brand mark peeked out from under his shirt. _A slave, _Sarah thought, lowering her knives, _that's where they're getting all the people. And now they're making little boys fight. _

Frustrated, Sarah looked around. She couldn't leave this little boy here to potentially get cut down by some slightly less wary warrior, but she was needed to fight too. Finally, she let out a noise of exasperation before kneeling before the boy and saying, "Can you understand me?" He hesitated, before nodding. As soon as she had lowered her knives, the club had dropped to the ground, inoffensive. "Okay. I need to you run, you got that? Don't fight anyone, just run," she paused to point further down the gorge, "That way, okay? I'll come get you later."

The little boy hesitated, before nodding and doing as she said. As Sarah stood, she looked around, and realized that many of these 'warriors' they were fighting were actually just slaves, dressed to look like warriors and get thrown at the Rangers, in the hopes that they might simply be beaten down by time and numbers. _We've just got to get them to change sides, _Sarah thought, throwing up her knives as someone changed course to attack her, _Get them to see we're really on their side. _Deciding to at least try, she caught the sword again and this time tried to hold it in place, make him listen. "Hey! You're not Scotti, are you?"

The man, stronger, wrenched his weapon free and slammed it at her again. This time when she caught it, she felt the blade slip a bit - it seemed she might be getting a little tired, something that could be deadly in a situation like this. And there were more than enough enemies left. "Oi! Listen, I can help you!"

Another blow followed, but this time the man paused. "No one can help me." He growled in a thick accent Sarah couldn't pinpoint, before swinging down a clumsy overhand slash.

"We can, I promise!" Sarah said after darting out of the way of the blade, instead letting it bite into the soft dirt. He began to raise it again, jerking it free, but Sarah didn't give him the chance to finish the movement. In one smooth motion she raised her saxe knife and smashed the hilt down on his fingers, making crunch audible even over the sounds of battle. The sword clattered to the ground, and Sarah held the blade tip at his throat, to keep him from coming at her with his fists. "You've just got to let us."

"My family." He rasped, "They have my family."

"They won't soon." Sarah vowed, "We're pretty damn good at what we do, and we'll get them out of there."

The man gulped, looking down the length of her blade. "What do you want?"

With a smile, Sarah dropped her blade. "There're others of you, yes? More of you than of the Scotti that are warriors. Call them off, or find whoever can. Get them to side with us, and we'll free everyone."

His eyes widened, "Everyone?"

Sarah nodded. "Every single one."

He watched her for a moment, before looking around at the battle that still continued on all sides. "How do you know they will stop killing them?"

"If they hear someone give the command, they'll expect it to be followed." She replied, knowing 'they' meant the rangers, "They'll fight alongside you, as long as you don't turn and stab us in the back."

With a final nod, the man turned away. "It is a good thing that you found me - I am the commander of their battalions." As the man started yelling something in a language Sarah couldn't identify, Sarah wondered at her good luck in just happening to engage him. _Like something out of a book,_ she thought, before chuckling at her own wit and watching the proceedings.

Warriors all about the field were pausing mid stroke, quickly stopping their attacks and changing them to blocks, if they were directly engaging a Ranger, Scandian or Horace's men. The latter, confused, hesitated as well, looking about. Sarah realized that the slave wasn't planning on translating, and quickly yelled out, "Attack only the Scotti - the slaves aren't our enemy!" Without further explanation, she charged through the non-attackers and engaged a clearly Scotti man, with his blue face paint and curved blade. Instantly, she noticed the difference, finding herself largely on the defense, and not solely the offence anymore. She was beginning to question her choice in taking on this warrior alone, when the man froze in the middle of a step, eyes wide, and fell sideways. In his place stood a slave-warrior, eyes gleaming with a rage that couldn't be anything but revenge.

"Das ist für meine Schwester!" He snarled, and Sarah, having taken German for several years, wondered just what could have happened to his sister. The young man looked up, and gave her a quick nod, before turning and running towards the supply train. Sarah was quick on his heels.

The battle was over shortly afterwards. Sarah had only just engaged another man, when a command rang out over the battlefield, filled with panic. Almost instantly, every weapon in the hands of the Scotti dropped to the ground, and the warriors threw their hands into the air with wide eyes. Sarah only just stopped her lunge in time, dragging the blade away from the man she had been fighting's now unguarded chest. Instead, she kept the tip rested casually against his chest, a silent warning in the action.

From the center of the supply train came Halt's voice, ringing clear through the ravine. "Alright, listen up! This supply train goes no further. The supplies shall be diverted up onto the top of the ravine. The warriors are going to be bound and kept under a guard." Sarah held her breath, hoping she hadn't made any idle promises. "I think it's only fair that the slaves go free if they wish. However, we would greatly appreciate your help, if you'd be willing to stay."

She let out a huge sigh of relief. Sarah was unable to see above the mass of tall men, but she could imagine what happened. The man she had convinced earlier stepping forward from the crowd, facing Halt. "What of our families? They are captured."

"Not anymore." Will this time, "We got them out as soon as we saw them. They're all fine." A chorus of cries rang out, the sounds of husbands and wives and children seeing each other in freedom, of tears of joy being shed.

"Well?" Halt asked after a suitably long time, "What do you say? Will you stay?"

There was only a short period of talking amongst the leaders of the slaves, before the man spoke up again. "Yes, we will stay."

The Rangers, Scotti slaves, and Scandians scattered about all grinned, Sarah included. _That's what happens when you oppress the majority, _Sarah thought, mentally citing South Africa and India as her examples. "Excellent. Now, we need to get some people to work cuffing the warriors, and the rest to work moving everything out of this gorge. We can't have any evidence that we were here, that anything happened!" Halt suddenly appeared out of the crowd, though Sarah hadn't noticed his voice growing nearer over the shuffle of others moving. "Sarah!" He exclaimed brightly, "Why don't you get to work climbing up that gorge with some rope and setting up a lifting rig - you can bring some others with you to help."

Sarah gave him the evil eye, "Why, Halt, why?"

He grinned wickedly, "Isn't it awful to be the only girl ranger? You've just got to keep proving yourself." Then he clapped her on the shoulder, moving on.

* * *

"Somebody's coming!" The lookout called softly. Briefly everyone froze in place, before, at a sharply hissed command, all the non-cloaked ex-slaves clambered part of the way back down the concealed gorge face, and the remaining rangers quickly wrapped their cloaks about them, concealing themselves. But Sarah, as she sat in her concealment, realized how strange and suspicious the half dozen carts and other supplies would look, unattended on the side of the road. She was about to say as much to Halt, before she realized that the first of whoever was coming was already coming into view, and that there wasn't any time to wait. So, without any more delay, Sarah slipped off her cloak and skittered out from her covering bush, and reclined casually against the wheels of one of the wagons.

And just in the nick of time. Just as Sarah finished setting up her poker face, one of the people in the train looked over and let out a noise of surprise. "Fallyn! There's another train here!"

"What?" Came the angry reply, and a man stormed into view, visibly fuming. He caught sight of Sarah, and grew visibly more angry. "Hey, you!"

Sarah waved in reply, masking any nervousness she might have been feeling under a facade of nonchalance bordering on arrogance. "Hey me!" She agreed, standing up, and hoping that they wouldn't notice the distinctive double scabbard on her hip.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Fallyn asked, "This is a Chapman route, everyone knows that!"

Sarah only smiled at him, "I'm sorry, a what?"

The man's face grew red. "A Chapman trading route! We're the only ones allowed to use it for trade!"

"Is that so?" Sarah replied, wondering where these acting skills had been hiding, because he was totally buying it.

"Yes, it is so!" He snarled, coming close, "Where's the head of this train, I want to talk with him."

"Who says I'm not the head?" She asked, looking him dead in the eye.

Fallyn scoffed out a laugh. "You? I think not, little lady. Now, where is he?"

Sarah laughed right back at him, "Look mate, you're not going to find any head other than me around here."

"Women aren't the heads of trading routes, idiot," he replied condescendingly, "Now go. Get. Him."

Sarah let out a sigh. "Well, you asked for it." Then, without further comment, she socked him full on in the nose, with little thought for any repercussions. Fallyn staggered backwards, tripping over his own boots and falling to the ground with his hands clutched firmly to his nose. "I. Am. The. Head."

"Why you little-" He leaped to his feet, blood staining his lower face and hands as he did so. Then, he reached out and grabbed Sarah by her lapels and pinned her back against one of the supply train wagons. "If you'd just gotten the head of this train, I would have let you go on by, but now, I think all this is ours." He raised a fist, and Sarah readied herself for a fight, quite happy to beat the crap out of this sexist idiot, "But first..."

"Fallyn, wait!" He didn't stop, but as the fist sailed towards her, Sarah twisted out of his grasp on her lapels and dropped into a roll, letting his hand smack into the wood behind her. He cried out in rage and pain, whirling to face where she had ended up, and started towards her. "Fallyn!" A man, perhaps a year or two older than Fallyn, wrapped his muscular arm around the man's waist, stopping him in his tracks.

"Get off me Eriko!" Fallyn snarled, trying and failing to free himself. Meanwhile, Sarah grinned at him with a devilish smile.

"Fallyn, stop, and use your head. Look at what she's wearing." Fallyn paused, looking her up and down. Then, he started shaking his head, blinking his eyes as if expecting to see something different each time.

"No. No it, it can't be..." he murmured, stepping back when Eriko released him, no longer as enraged as before apparently.

"Double scabbard." Eriko said, and Sarah felt her stomach drop. "Ranger."

"Damn," Sarah said, drawing her knives and starting to retreat. "This is my fault, get out of here," she said over her shoulder to the other Rangers, suddenly recognizing the logic behind staying hidden, especially with much of their gear out of reach due to it being either emptied by the previous battle or being used in other ways at the moment, "I can hold them off, you can regroup elsewhere."

"No, wait!" Eriko said, as the other Rangers began to move, unseen to all but Sarah who knew where to look. "I don't know how many of you there are hidden in those trees, but we aren't here to attack you, or turn you in to the Scotti." He looked at Fallyn pointedly, "C'mon, give it to the lass."

The scowling, bloodied man reached into his shirt front pocket, pulling out a paper, folded over many times. "Here. From Lady Alyss Treaty."

Sarah, still suspicious, stepped forward and took the paper from his hand. After unfolding it, she looked it over, skimming the words. "Will?" She said softly, worry lacing her voice, "Can you tell if this is her handwriting?"

After a pause, the young man stepped forward out of the trees, eliciting a few gasps from the spectators. He took the paper, and before even reading it, said, "It's definitely her." Then, as he got further and further into the note, his eyes grew wider and wider. "Oh Alyss, what have you gotten yourself into?"

"That first page's just a letter, letting you know what's happened," Eriko said, "But there's more in the next pages, things she's found out from being so close to sir Thomas. Things that could let you win the war."

"And how did you get it?" Will demanded.

Eriko shrugged, having apparently taken over from Fallyn for the moment. "She couldn't very well deliver it herself, could she? Chapman trading routes are the widest spreading in the whole of Araluen, even now that those bloody Scotti have come in and restricted us. If anyone was going to find you, it was us."

Will considered a moment more, before saying, "Will you take a letter back?"

"Of course," Eriko replied, "Though I can't promise any kind of timeliness - mustn't look suspicious."

Will nodded his approval. "Alright." He passed the letter on to Sarah, who took them with a startled look. "You go ahead and read that all over, all the information she's sending. I'll see what we need to send back." He threw a pointed look into the forest, telling them to remain hidden. "Well, go on." Sarah, jerked into action, threw one last look at Fallyn, before going to sit on the back of one of the wagons, turning to the first page of information.

"That was really dumb, punching him," came a whisper from the trees, and Sarah knew instantly that it was Justin.

"Yeah, but it felt great," she replied, "Now shut up, I need to read.

* * *

A FEW WEEKS LATER.

With their increased numbers, there was no need to worry about stopping the following supply trains. The third one hadn't even put up a fight, just surrendered on sight of the army waiting for them, and belaying down the ropes behind them to complete the trap. So logically, Sarah shouldn't have had any worries about the party splitting in half.

She shouldn't have. But she did.

"But Will," Sarah tried again, "If something happens, who's going to come to your rescue?"

"We won't need rescuing - we're Rangers, remember?" Will said, dumping a bundle of supplies into her arms, "But Araluen does need rescuing, and that's your job."

"But-"

"Sarah." Will placed a hand on either shoulder, forcing her to look at him. "Everything is going to work out."

"How can you know that?" Sarah accused, "What if everything goes wrong?"

"Then being in one group isn't going to change anything." His face was deadly serious, "I'm worried too - that's my wife in there, remember? But I'm just going to have to hope that everything works out. We've got some warriors, we've got some brains, who knows? We might just win." He gave her a weak smile. "And if we don't, we probably won't have long to worry about it."

Sarah nodded after a moment, feeling an indescribable emotion somewhere between fear and relief. "Where is the group going?"

Will's smile grew closer to legitimate as he realized that Sarah was going to go without further argument, "I believe that you're going to one of their storehouses of weapons, going to try and burn it down and dispose of what's left."

Sarah nodded again, shifting her grip on the supplies in her arms. "Oh. Good. Well. I guess this is goodbye for now."

Will clapped her on the shoulder. "I suppose it is. Goodbye, Sarah, and good luck."

He had started to turn away when Sarah suddenly put in, "Wait!" He stopped, turning back. "What if... what if I mess up?"

Will laughed - actually laughed the idiot - and shook his head. "You won't." Then, without another word, he turned away and slipped into the moving mass of mobilizing warriors.

Sarah watched the space where he'd been with a blank look. "That," she said to nobody, "Was even worse of an answer than 'you'll understand when you're older.'"


	26. Chapter 25: Adelaide's Lament

**A/N: Alright guys, I'm off to the land of Europe soon, but I wanted to leave you with something before I go, so here's a quick little chapter to tide you over for ... the next two months. I'm sorry! Really I am, and I'm going to try to write as I travel, but you never know what's going to happen! I'll definitely be back and working by about mid August when school starts back up, for sure, positive, 100% certainty. Well, 99% certainty, I could get hit by a meteor on my travels and be unable to write. But still. August, be prepared. Gonna throw it out there again, getting an account and following the story will make it so you don't have to keep checking back manually, you'll get an email, so it'll be less annoying for you. Yay, right? So, hopefully I'll see you sooner rather than later, and have a great summer (or winter if you're southern hemisphere, I suppose)!**

**Ugh, just realized how long it was between my last two updates... I am so. So sorry. If I could put gifs in here, I'd put a gif of the Doctor saying that because only the look on his face can properly express to you how sorry I am... I'm a bad person, I'm sorry, here, take some virtual cookies as my apology. **

**Oh good, you're still reading! Thought y'all might of given up on me.**

**Anon: Oh yes, Halt can be quite wicked once he's gotten over his apprentice getting snatched. I would involve Crowley, except he's kinda chilling back at the base, (and this chapter's an Alyss chapter) but I'll see if I can accommodate you. He's definitely coming back before the end of the story, no fear, but I can't quite say when, sorry!**

**Pheonix Risin/ Farmers Girl 101/ FarmersDaughter: Nah, the little boy's just there to demonstrate the ways that the Scotti are not-so-good. Maybe I'll bring him back at your request... That's what epilogues are for, right? Maybe on my last chapter I'll have requests for Epilogues, and make those requested :) And yeah, I was considering if they cluttered things, but then decided 'oh wait no I need them for things and stuff'. Have fun in wherever-you're-going in August!**

**Tessi: Hey look, another surprise chapter! I'm rather good, aren't I XD. Just kidding. I'm glad you like that, and caught it too. The little subtle things I throw in, sometimes without even consciously doing it, but then if people miss it I can somehow tell... anyways. It's coming, probably another chapter set or two, possibly three if I'm feeling like it. We'll see. Also glad you like my characters, and I'm gonna try and keep em good! Hope you see this and don't check back in August in time to realize you've been missing out! **

* * *

"Pauline, this is bad. Very bad. Incredibly, incredibly not good."

Pauline, who had been entering casually, stepped in quickly, slammed the door, and rushed over to her younger friend, "What's the matter? Are you alright?"

"Depends on your definition." Alyss replied, "I'm sore, and I haven't gotten any good sleep in three days. But that's not the problem." She was standing in front of a mirror, worry written in deep lines on her face. "The problem is this." She ran one hand down her front, showing where the dress was bulging slightly at the stomach. "It's noticeable now. He'll s_ee _it Pauline!"

Pauline let out a sigh of relief. "Don't scare me like that! The way you said it ,I thought you had fallen and gotten hurt!"

Alyss too sighed, sitting on the bed. "I'm sorry, it's just..." She ran her hand over her stomach again. "I... I don't want..."

"Shhhh," Pauline hushed, sitting beside her, "It's okay, it's all going to be okay."

The young woman nodded , though she looked unconvinced. "I mean, you're staying right?"

"That's right." Pauling agreed, taking the younger woman's hand, "And you've sent off that information to the Rangers - it will be invaluable."

"Which is the problem, isn't it?" Alyss said, "The information - they're going to need any new information, but there's no way I can go to his study looking like this! There's no way I can do anything looking like this!"

Pauline had just opened her mouth to reply, when there was a knock on the door. "Alyss? Alyss can I come in?"

Alyss looked at her mentor with horror. "It's Thomas!" She hissed, eyes flicking periodically towards the door as if fearing it might suddenly disappear.

"Alyss, I heard your voice, I know you're in there." There was a tinge of warning in his voice this time, "Who's with you?"

Pauline's eyes lit up suddenly, and she motioned with one finger to remain silent, before standing, walking to the door, opening it, walking through, and shutting it as quickly as she could. This placed her well into Thomas' personal space, who had been standing fairly close to the door, and forced him to retreat a step - a small victory to be sure, but a victory none the less. "Good morning, your highness," Pauline said, carefully keeping all sarcasm out of her voice.

"Vivian," he acknowledged, "I need to go see Alyss, it's important." He made a move to step around her, but she countered with a step of her own, staying firmly in his way.

"Oh, you can't go in there." she told him, hoping that Alyss was using her time to hide her baby bump in case Thomas insisted on going in anyways.

"And why not?" He demanded, clearly irritated.

Pauline looked about, as if wanting to make sure no one would overhear. "She's not well, sire," she confided in a low tone, "Not well at all. It's severely contagious, some sort of fever."

"Then why were you in there?" Thomas asked, clearly suspicious.

"Well, it just so happens I had this same fever a few years back, that's how I know it's so contagious. I won't be getting it again." She shook her head. "It's going to be a while before she recovers I'm afraid, if she recovers at all."

A frown creased his brow, "She could die?"

"Of course she could die, you can die from a cold if you aren't careful!" Pauline chided. "Now, if you need to tell her something, or give her something, you're just going to have to do it through me, unless you want to be sick too." If she was going to be the 'doctor' who was taking care of his 'sweetheart' you'd better believe she was going to take full advantage of the power it gave her, including the ability to give him lip.

He looked a little less than amused with this news, but didn't argue any more. "I just wanted to tell her that a fellow from Chapman's here, says he's got a special delivery of... whatever it is that she's been buying for the last month."

Pauline nodded with a slight smile, "I'll let her know." She turned and opened the door to go in.

"And tell her I said to get better soon, and I love her." Thomas added. Pauline shut the door behind her without responding.

"Well?" Alyss said as soon as Pauline motioned it was safe, "What happened?"

Pauline shook her head, coming to sit before the young woman, "Oh, my dear I am so sorry, but you're so sick, you probably shouldn't even be talking. You could die. And I'm afraid it's so contagious, that no one but me can come in the room."

A grin spread across her face. "Oh Pauline, you are brilliant!" She gave her a hug. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure," Pauline replied, "It's more than enough personal benefit to have a good reason to deny him his wishes, even the little ones."

Alyss laid back on her bed, looking content, before another frown spread across her face. "Why'd he come in the first place?"

"Oh, that's right - he said Chapman has sent you his latest delivery. He's waiting outside."

Alyss bolted back upright. "Oh my goodness, I almost forgot! Pauline, you've got to go get it for me, it could be important."

Pauline laid a calming hand on her shoulder, "Alright my dear, calm down. I'll be right back."

And indeed, she was back quite quickly, with a small package tucked under her arm. "What on earth have you ordered?"

"Tea," Alyss replied, "A very special and expensive kind, that also looks a great deal like shredded paper."

Pauline laughed, "You've been buying shredded paper to disguise your notes?"

Alyss shook her head, "No, it's actually tea, that's just conveniently colored. Tastes quite good actually, would you like some after I read the note?"

"Yes, thank you," Pauline replied, handing the package over.

Alyss quickly tore through the wrappings, revealing a cloth bag, presumably filled with tea. However, Alyss opened the bag and dumped the entire contents into the wrapping, revealing the note as the tea leaves scattered out more thinly. After plucking it from the mess, she daintily unfolded it, noting with some degree of hope that the paper seemed more delicate than usual. To her delight, she was correct - it was not the same paper that Chapman had been using to inform her that he had not received any response from the Rangers. It was a piece of Ranger parchment, the insignia boldly emblazoned on the top. "Pauline, it's from Will! He's alright!"

The pair of them huddled together on the bed and read the letter. It outlined all that had happened since their sudden departure from the castle and, of course, expressed much worry for Alyss and the baby, along with gratitude for the information provided by her. On a separate page, there was a list of all the different actions they were taking in response to Alyss' and Kathryn's information, along with their current assets, so that Alyss could know what to look for in terms of what to censor from Thomas' view.

"Pauline." Alyss said finally, "How am I going to be able to do any of that? I can't go out of the room anymore!"

Pauline sat thinking for a moment, before saying, "Perhaps Thomas will accept my assistance in replacement of yours."

"Good thinking," Alyss said, "But you'd have to 'check up' on me every once in a while, to keep up the charade."

Pauline nodded as well. "I suppose I will. But, a small price to pay when it comes to Halt and Will's safety." The woman gave pause, "And Alyss? Would you mind including a note from me to Halt in your next payment to Chapman?"

Alyss groaned, "You're going to have to do the deliveries and things too, Pauline, I'm sorry."

Pauline smiled, "How about you make some of that tea, and we'll call it even?"

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so probably not a whole lot more Alyss chapters coming up, as things at the castle are slowing way WAY down . So, back to Kathryn, and to Sarah, but not to Alyss, unfortunately. (Maybe a sentence or two update at the end of one of their chapters, if y'all want.)**


End file.
